Starcrossed
by BetweenDreamsAndReality
Summary: After Arthur is forced to live in America with his brothers and father he meets an obnoxious American and teaches him how to love.   Main Pairings: UsUk and some others.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to the inner mechanisms of my mind! I've been trying to work on this fan fiction as much as I possibly could, without my family pestering me. I hope it's not too obvious, because I am going to throw in some plot twists…ooh! Please Enjoy!

Warnings: Strong language

Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia!

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><p>"And that concludes today's meeting," Mr. Wang announced. The ten students who were actually a part of the model UN club pushed out their chairs and went to pick up their book bags. It was a classroom that used to be a storage closet until the recent renovations. The room was one of the original rooms from the early 20th century, when the school was built. Half of the paint was chipping off revealing a muddy, rusted color. There were only two windows, although one of them never opened and the other was an a rescue window. Arthur placed his thick, square glasses into his black case and stuffed it into his brown, leather backpack alongside four textbooks.<p>

He noticed a tall shadow hovering over him. Without looking up he asked "yes?"

Mr. Wang scanned him and tilted his head, then held out a slip of paper. 'New Member Registration Form' was typed in bold font across the top of the white page. In a thick Chinese accent, Mr. Wang said "please fill this out."

He just nodded and uncapped his black pen.

Attempting to make small-talk, Mr. Wang asked "so where did you move from?"

"England."

The room was now completely empty of other nine girls. Mr. Wang nodded. "Why did you move?"

He shrugged. "No reason," he lied and handed the paper to his teacher.

"Not to sound rude, but why did you join model UN? There are plenty of other clubs, and you chose _this_ one?"

He shrugged once more. "I don't know. I like history. I'm surprised there aren't that many people. In my old school there were a lot of people in this club."

Mr. Wang sighed. "All of the other boys in your grade do sports that conflict with clubs." He noticed a red haired man at the doorway. His curled his lip and muttered "or they are involved with music."

"The correct term is acting." Scottie [1] corrected leaning against the narrow doorway.

Mr. Wang sneered "I wouldn't call our plays _acting_."

"Come on Art! Why are you even in this club?" He combed his hands though his thick red hair.

Mr. Wang rolled his eyes. "Is this your brother?"

Arthur answered "sadly."

Mr. Wang tilted his head in disbelief. The only ones in Arthur's family that had blonde hair were him and his mother. His two brothers, his sister and his father all had red hair.

Arthur slung his backpack around his right shoulder before standing from his desk. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Wang."

Mr. Wang put the new registration sheet on top of a pile of papers, on a wobbling teacher's desk placed in the center of the room. "It was very nice to meet you. I hope you like America!"

Arthur smiled as he joined Scottie in the abandoned hallway. "Do you have to be such a jerk all the time?"

He rearranged Arthur's already messy, blonde hair. "That's what older brother's are for."

Arthur frowned and continued walking down the empty hallway. He passed molded lockers that no longer had any locks attached to it, and doorways without numbers inscribed on them. It was a lonely hallway at the back of the school that nobody dares to go down, except when you want to buy marijuana, or apparently, join the model UN club. "When I visited you last year you weren't _this_ annoying…"

"That's because you weren't living with me! I don't have to share my room with you, ya know." Actually Arthur did not want to live in Scottie's room. It smelled like cigarettes and was always dimly lit. His room used to smell like scented wall flowers. He wished he was back in England living with his mother.

"I wish I didn't have to," he muttered and followed Scottie as they took a sharp right turn down the main hallway. He thought about the summer after his parents got a divorce. Arthur and his sister Eily [2] lived with his mother in England while Scottie and his younger brother Dylan [3] stayed with his father and moved toAmerica. He thought about how his sister requested a beer and how Scottie attempted to steal it. Then, he thought about how his dad would puff smoke into his face as he asked for what age Arthur was.

His memories were interrupted by Scottie holding out a five dollar bill. "I'm starving. Go buy something from the football team while I get the car." He pointed to the line of girls squealing about some a bake sale. It seemed like everyday there was a bake sale at this dumb school.

Arthur nodded and stuffed the money into his jeans' front pocket and stood behind a girl from the model UN team. She bought a slice of pizza and one of the team members kissed her on the cheek. _America__ is so weird. I wish I was back in England_, Arthur thought.

"Two slices please." He took out the crumpled five dollar bill.

"Sorry we don't accept Euros," one of the team members laughed looking down at the money with his sea blue eyes.

His green eyes narrowed. "Very funny, it's American money, you git."

"If you buy a slice I've gotta kiss you, he said smugly as the whole team behind him began to laugh. He pointed to Arthur's cheek. "Right there."

"I just want a slice of pizza," he gritted through his teeth and folded his hand into a fist.

Another person on the team joined in. "Oh look, Alfred, Big Ben's about to erupt!" The whole team laughed behind him.

He noticed Scottie's small white car parked outside of the main lobby. He threw the money onto the small table. He began to walk off and muttered "keep the change."

Scottie rolled down the tinted car's window. "Where's my pizza?"

"Up your ass, just let me in."

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><p>"So how was your first day at your new school?" Jack [4] asked noticing Arthur was unusually quiet at the dinner time. Although, Arthur tried to always be quiet at dinner. He had nothing interesting to talk about. Anyways, he would always eat dinner alone seeing how everyone else wanted to watch football instead.<p>

"Fine" he mumbled and dug through soggy mash potatoes he did not intend on eating.

"Did you make any new friends?"

"No."

"Scottie, what the hell did you do to him?" Jack shoveled another large slice of meatloaf into his mouth.

Scottie rolled his eyes. "I didn't do anything! Why are you always blaming me? He's probably always like this…"

Arthur protested, "I am not!"

"Then tell us what is bothering you!"

Arthur flailed his hands into the hair and yelled "this whole bloody country! Hasn't anyone heard of manners?" He looked around the table to see Dylan texting on his cell phone and his father obnoxiously chewing with his mouth open. He missed having long conversations with his mother about school and his friends.

"Calm down, Art," Scottie suggested opening a bottle of bourbon into a dirty glass cup. He pushed the cup towards Arthur.

Arthur refused.

Dylan rolled his eyes and ignored Arthur. "Anyways how were the tryouts for the musical?"

"Awful," Scottie explained. "Nobody can act at our school!"

Jack attempted to lighten the mood and asked "why don't you join the play, Art? Make some friends? Come on, didn't you love acting when you were a kid? And I missed a whole day of work just to see you be the itsy bitsy spider!"

"He already joined _model UN_," Scottie answered mockingly.

Arthur took another sip of the beer. "You say it like it's a bad thing."

"It's not a bad thing…it's a good club to meet some sexy girls," Dylan teased continuing to text someone.

Arthur rolled his emerald eyes. "Have any of you talked to Eily yet?"

Arthur looked into his father's eyes. "She could not get a flight to England until early November."

Dylan asked "dad, why didn't you go?"

"I'm not supposed to be afflicted with her anymore, Dylan. Anyways she wouldn't have left me anything in that will anyways…"

Dylan suggested "why didn't Arthur just go?"

"I'm not allowed, you git. Not until May 17th when I'm 18, can I be left alone without a guardian. Anyways, as dad said, she wouldn't have left me anything."

"That's not true!"

Arthur reached out to the dirty glass and took a small sip. "Yeah, whatever. I just want to go back to England."

Jack exclaimed "then go, one less mouth to feed!"

Arthur curled his lip and took another sip of the beer. Bourbon was the closest thing to England.

_To Be Continued…_

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><p>1. Referring to Scotland.<p>

2. Referring to Ireland.

3. Referring to Wales.

4. Referring to their father. I looked up the most common name in England and Jack was #1 so I just used it.

Please refer to .com for further reference

Author's notes: Hello, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. It was more like an introduction than anything...mostly because nothing really happened, although there are a few main ideas. I feel like everyone is really confused, but I don't want to spoil it! UGH! I'm so conflicted! Usually something kinda happens in the first chapter, but nothing is really going to happen in this fanfic! Just kidding! It's not going to be some sci-fi fantasy romance story, although there is a possibility of some magic 'hint hint' but it's just going to be one of those sappy high school movies that some how makes a lot of money. Okay I am completely off topic! I hope it's not too obvious and read the next chapter! (I hope it turns out well...)


	2. Chapter 2

Here's the thrilling second chapter of Starcrossed, although it's not very thrilling. It's actually quite boring...I want to ramp it up a bit in the third chapter! I hope you all stay with me long enough to get there. I just need to introduce everyone and then I can get the plot driving. I hope you understand what is happening! [Please say you do!] Please enjoy!

Warnings: Strong language

Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia!

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><p>"I have to photo copy the topics for next tournament. I'll be back in two minutes, and then you can all leave," Mr. Wang announced walking out of the room with a stack of papers in his hands.<p>

Arthur tapped the girl sitting in front of him. "Hey, uh, Lili [1], can I ask you a question?"

She turned around and smiled brightly. "Oh! You're Arthur right? It's nice to meet you! How can I help you?" Although she was a freshman, he had known her from his American History class.

He combed his fingers through his messy hair. "Do you know a guy named Alfred? He's on the football team and…"

Her smile faded. She twisted one of her short, blonde strands of hair around ring finger. "What about him?"

He looked down at his model UN notes. "Never mind, then…" he began.

She smiled unnaturally and insisted "no, I didn't mean to offend you. Please, continue."

"Just, what do you know about him?"

She rolled her emerald eyes. "He's exactly like he acts. He's obnoxious and loud. Why do you ask?"

Arthur looked remembered his encounter with him yesterday. _Maybe I'm making a bigger deal than it needs to be,_ he thought.

"No reason."

"Whatever, just don't get afflicted with him."

"Okay, settle down I have the tournament information for all of you!" Mr. Wang flailed the stack of papers in his hands and placed one on each of our desks. "Our first competition this year will be at the end of October. Get excited and remember to research!" He clapped his hands together and smiled. "Okay I'll see you all tomorrow!"

Arthur gathered his papers into his hands and went across the hallway to his small, decomposed locker. He twisted the numbers on the small dial. He popped his locker open to see a small note lying on top of his leather backpack. He tilted his head and unfolded the piece of lined paper.

_Sorry for yesterday. Meet me at Grandpa Roma's Pizzeria at five today. My treat! ~Alfred Jones. _

Arthur crumbled the piece of paper and stuffed it into his jeans' pocket.

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><p>"Oh good, you came! I was starting to think you wouldn't come and I was about to leave but, you came," Alfred spurted after watching Arthur walk though the front door to the pizzeria. He was sitting in a booth near the window playing with his thumbs and drinking a cup of soda through a bended straw.<p>

Arthur muttered "yeah, whatever." He slouched into the opposite side of the table.

"So…you like pizza? Well…obviously, I mean, you were trying to buy some yesterday. What I meant was, what do you like on your pizza?"

Arthur murmured "cheese?"

Alfred rolled his sapphire eyes and laughed. He laugh was intolerable and thunderous that would make anyone want to slap him across the face. "Besides cheese!"

Arthur cocked one of his unusually bushy eyebrows. "I'm pretty sure there's sauce on it too…"

Alfred stared blankly. "I'll go get plain." He stood up from the booth and grabbed a wallet from his pockets, and then walked over to the cash registers and ordered one pie.

_Maybe he wouldn't notice if I left_, Arthur thought looking out onto the open road through the freshly cleaned window. _I could leave without him knowing…_

He returned too quickly. "Where did you move from again?"

Arthur snarled "is it not obvious?"

Alfred stared blankly again. "Was it France? I know it's not Spain…"

Arthur shouted "you bloody git, I'm from England!"

Alfred slouched into his varsity jacket and murmured. "I didn't mean to offend you! What's your name again?"

He contemplated giving a fake name, ensuring he'd never hear from Alfred again. Instead, he muttered "Arthur."

"Better than Alfred…" he began.

"What's wrong with Alfred?"

"It sounds like an old man's name!"

Arthur forced a smile. _Play along. You don't want to make enemies_, he thought.

"I bet your grandfather's name is Alfred."

Arthur shrugged.

"Alfred, here's your pizza," the waitress said and placed the pizza on the table. She had messy brown hair with one untamable curl sticking out of the right side of her hair. She looked to be no older than a high school student.

Alfred winked at her. "Thanks Katrina [2]! I think you should meet my new friend Arthur. He moved here from uhh…what's that place again?"

Arthur cocked an eyebrow. "England?"

He picked up a slice, folded it, and shoved half of it into his mouth. _Does anyone in this blood country have manners? _"Yeah, England! Isn't that cool?"

Katrina sighed. "I've gotta get back to work or my grandpa is gonna kill me." With those words, she returned behind the counter.

Alfred swallowed and took a sip of soda. "Katrina's not that social anyways."

Arthur looked disgusted at Alfred's eating habits, and reached for the smallest slice of pizza he could find. He unraveled the utensils from his napkin and began to cut his pizza into small pieces.

Alfred tilted his head. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I am eating." He continued to cut his pizza into small bits.

Alfred exclaimed "that's not how you eat pizza!"

"I'm not going to shove the entire slice into my mouth like some bloody pig!"

"I'm not a pig!" Alfred defended.

Arthur sighed. _Don't make enemies_, he told himself. He managed to ask "so what position are you for football?"

He boasted "quarterback!" He turned around to reveal a white fifty stitched onto the back of his team jacket.

Arthur took a sip of his water. "Is the quarter back an American version of a goalie?"

Alfred took another slice and giggled, "I think you're thinking of soccer. Nah, I play football. Don't you have football in…where ever you're from?"

Arthur cut another piece of pizza and popped it into his mouth. "In England football is rugby, and soccer is football."

"Ooh! So is baseball called soccer?"

"I'm afraid it doesn't work that way…"

There was a long pause before Alfred asked "so what's England like?"

Arthur hesitated before answering "it's the most wonderful place."

"So why did you move?" He grabbed his third slice of pizza.

Arthur watched as Alfred sloppily ate. "It wasn't by choice," he muttered. He continued to cut his first slice into pieces hoping Alfred would do the same.

Alfred swallowed. "You still didn't answer the fucking question."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. Since he moved to America, he did not speak of what happened in England. "I don't like to talk about it…" he managed to grit through his teeth.

"Come on! We're friends!"

Arthur sighed. "My mother had cancer and passed away. By law, I have to go live with a guardian until I am 18, which would be my father."

Alfred's blue eyes filled with salty tears. "Oh, Artie!" He flung his arms out, motioning for Arthur to hug him.

Arthur didn't budge.

"Okay, since you told me a secret, I am obligated to tell you one! Okay…" He leaned in closer to Arthur and whispered "I've never kissed anyone."

His green eyes shot open. _Why is he being so open with me? I barely even know him! _

"What about yesterday? You kissed that girl…"

Alfred shook his head. "It wasn't a _real_ kiss."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "So, what is your definition of a _real_ kiss?"

He shrugged. "I'll tell you when I have one."

And for the first time since he got to America, Arthur truly smiled.

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>1. Referring to Liechtenstein<p>

2. Referring to Fem!Romano

Author's notes: Hey everybody! Please review! Yeah, so this chapter started building interactions between Arthur and Alfred, not to mention Lili. Oooh how is she going to fit into this mess? Maybe she's just an insignificant character on the model UN team. Also, was the ending too sudden? And is it too short? I feel like it just ended. He smiled. Okay? Who cares? That's seriously how I feel! Maybe I'll edit it...I don't know. Review. PLEASE! Please tell me! 'Cause then I'll know what to do. Do all of my endings just end? I'm projecting at least twenty chapters, although I'll most likely stop writing about chapter 10 because I'm going to get stuck, and also because no one even cares. BUH! Whatever, onto chapter 3!


	3. Chapter 3

Wow third chapter was very difficult for me. Maybe because my mind wanders too much! Okay, all of my chapters are _really really _short. And that's a problem! It's most likely because my teachers keep telling me to write less...woops I'm off topic! -This is my problem. Anyways, I'm just starting with the plot, but after this I want to get the plot driving a little more. Maybe I might pull it back for a couple of chapters...I have some ideas, but I can't put them into words. Sadness. Please enjoy!

Warnings: Strong language

Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia!

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><p>Arthur opened one of the heavy oak doors into the school's small library. He sat down at an empty table near the window and reached into his backpack for his white earphones. The library was mostly deserted except for one square table with three students talking loudly next to him. He began to eavesdrop on them through his <em>Complete American History<em> textbook.

One of the students asked "hey are you going to the football game later today?"

The second one had a harsh, raspy voice. "I don't know, is Alfred gonna be there?"

Arthur's heart jumped. Just the sound of Alfred's name made him unconscientiously smile.

"He wasn't gym today…" the first one began.

The second student combed his hand through his silver hair. "We'd lose anyways, why go? Ludwig is good, but he's not as good as Alfred when it comes to football…"

Alfred wasn't here today? His heart began to beat faster.

"Michelle [1] told me he was sick, and she would know. I wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to have mono or someone other STD."

The third guy rolled green his eyes. "Francis, Michelle doesn't know shit. Katrina told me that he was at her grandfather's pizzeria yesterday with that British kid."

Everything all became clear to Arthur. Alfred was embarrassed to be seen with him. He began to feel a mix between misery and rage.

"I bet he poisoned him…"

Arthur clenched his hands into fists making his knuckles turn white.

"Gilbert, you are way off," The third student responded.

Gilbert rolled his red eyes.

Francis yelled "I think you and Antonio are both idiots!"

"Katrina wouldn't lie to me…" Antonio began.

"Oh, I forgot that Katrina is _such _a good girlfriend." Francis mocked.

"We're not dating!"

"Instead of being idiots, let's just go ask him! Hey!" Gilbert called out.

Startled, Arthur fell over in his chair letting his papers cascade to the floor.

"Woah, I didn't mean to frighten you…"

Arthur mumbled "it is fine." He resituated himself into his chair before shuffling for his textbook and notes.

"Then can we ask you a question?" Francis asked.

Arthur nodded.

"Why isn't Alfred in school today?"

Arthur shrugged. Filled with rage he lied "I don't know. I don't even know who Alfred is."

Gilbert exclaimed "told you!"

"Thanks for your help. By the way, there's a piece of paper on the ground which I think is yours." Antonio pointed to a small crumbled paper and went back to conversing.

Arthur bent down and unfolded the paper note.

_Artie, I sent my brother to leave this note for you. I'm not feeling so good. We need to talk. Come by my house later today! ~Alfred Jones_

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><p>"Hey Dad, do we have any soup?"<p>

Without moving from the television he answered "in the cabinet."

Arthur opened the top cabinets to see at least ten red _Campbells _chicken noodle soup cans.

Dylan asked "why do you need soup, anyways?"

He locked his arms around three soup cans. He sneered "why do you care?"

"Please don't say that's our dinner."

Arthur rolled his eyes and ignored Dylan's comment. He pulled out a can opener from the utensils drawer. It was half rusted, almost broken, and still had pieces of ravioli meat on it. Just like everything in this house: dirty. Arthur shuddered. "When was the last time someone cleaned around here?"

Dylan shrugged. "Sorry we're not neat freaks like you and mom. Anyways, why are you making the soup?"

Arthur ran the can opened under warm water. "You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Dylan narrowed his eyes. "What I wouldn't believe is if you were entering a cooking competition. Now tell me why you're making soup!"

Arthur sighed and filled one of the large pots with water and placed it on the stove. "I've became a much better cook, by the way."

"I doubt it," he muttered under his breath. "You still didn't answer why you're making so much soup!"

"Okay, okay, one of my friends is sick and I'm bringing it over. Happy?"

"Oooh, is it one of those hot model UN girls? Is it Michelle? Come on, tell me her name."

Arthur sighed. "Alfred."

Dylan laughed in disbelief. "Alfred? Alfred Jones? You're bringing soup to _your friend_ Alfred Jones?"

Arthur nodded and poured the cans of soup into the pot. "See I told you! I knew you wouldn't believe me."

"It's just…you and Alfred?" He snorted. "Ha! I think you need to check your fucking calendar it's not April Fools."

Arthur lunged for Dylan's throat. "You bloody git!"

"Arthur, come on. Now tell me who it's really for."

"Alfred."

Dylan stared blankly. "Are you fucking serious?"

"Serious."

"Seriously?"

"I'm bloody serious!"

"Okay whatever" Dylan added propping his feet up on the grimy kitchen table.

"Fine, if you don't believe me, drive me there." He continued to mix the soup with a wooden spoon.

"Drive _you_? You're seventeen, drive yourself," he sneered.

"I can't drive in America!"

"Touché," Dylan remarked.

"So will you drive me?"

"Whatever, but you might not wanna over cook that soup. It smells like something's burning in here."

"Shit," Arthur cussed. He quickly turned down the heat and moved the pot onto one of the off stovetops.

Dylan laughed. "Yup, you've gotten a lot better."

Arthur curled his lip.

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><p>The car ride was mostly quiet. At every red light, Dylan would take out his phone and text, yet another, one of his friends. Arthur sat with his hands tied around a large bowl of soup, careful not to let it spill onto Dylan's rundown car. The car smelled like Dylan stole it from a junkyard, and filled it with dead rodents and half eaten hamburgers.<p>

Dylan broke the silence. "This might sound like a weird question, but how did _you_ become friends with Alfred?"

Arthur shrugged. "Just kinda happened."

He raised an eyebrow. "Like magic?"

"I did not put a spell on him if that's what you're suggesting," Arthur pouted and leaned upon the passenger door. Arthur was skilled in the "art" of magic, but not enough to make someone like him. He watched as the houses became larger, and cleaner as they crossed the railroad tracks.

"I wasn't suggesting that," he defended. _It just, kinda seems weird._ He turned right into a large, circular driveway. At the end of the driveway was a large, two story white house. Arthur gaped at the sight of it. It almost looked like a miniature white house.

Arthur gawked in disbelief "_this_ is his house?"

Dylan nodded. "He's fucking rich, Arthur. Don't screw this up."

Arthur opened the passenger door and looked up at the house and sighed. Sure, his house in London was quite large, but not like this. He walked up the stone staircase to the large, white door. He rang the doorbell with his free hand.

The door opened immediately, practically startling him. "Hello?" His voice was soft, almost a whisper. Must've been really sick…

"Alfred, uh, yeah, I heard you were sick, so I brought you soup…"

He giggled. "Oh, you must be Arthur. No, I'm his brother, Matthew. Please, come inside." He opened the glass door and allowed him to enter. The main room was beautiful. Almost unreal. The walls were painted white with a large, spiral staircase in the middle of the room. A large, white piano stood in the middle of the room. Above the piano was a crystal chandelier that probably cost more than his house.

"Alfred's room is up the steps." Matthew pointed to a wide hallway. "It's the last room on the right."

Arthur smiled. "Thanks." He stepped up each stair regally making sure not to drop his soup. _Dylan was right, they are bloody rich. _

He reached the last door in the hallway to see the large door was sealed. He knocked twice.

"Come in, Matt!"

Arthur hesitated before twisting the knob to the room open. "Sorry, I'm not Matt." Alfred's room was probably larger than his current house.

Alfred ripped his blankets off from him and stood up. "It's you! You came!"

"I brought soup," Arthur notified. He combed his hands through his hair. "Although, it's probably cold and burned. I don't know! I heard you're sick, but you look fine now…"

"Artie," he began. Arthur knew this tone of voice. It was the tone of voice in a movie when the lead male is breaking up with the lead girl. "I'm not sick."

Arthur looked down at his bowl. "And now you never want to see me again…I get it."

His eyes widened. "Artie, what gave you that notion?"

He bit his lip.

"Artie, when I got home from eating pizza with you, I felt something I had never felt before. My mom said it was because I ate too much pizza, but I know it wasn't. She made me stay home thinking that I was sick, but I'm not sick." He looked into Arthur's green eyes. "I like you."

Arthur's reaction was almost my impulse. "I like you too."

He caressed Arthur's face. "No. Arthur, I love you."

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>1. Referring to Seychelles<p>

Author's notes: Hello everybody! I have made the un-thrilling thrilling! It was almost impossible, but I made it possible. So does Arthur love Alfred back? Is Alfred really just under a magical spell? Hm...all these choices which one should I choose? I hope it wasn't too obvious. have to see how it unfolds in the next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

Dearest reader, hello once more! I'm here bringing you another installment of Starcrossed. It took a while, (and most of my midterm studying time) but I finished the chapter! At first I had a different ending so the ending sorta just ends once more [who's shocked?] but I added more random details. It's a bit, as in very, short because it's quite boring. When's the action going to happen? Oh, I forgot...NEVER! Haha, no I'll make it awesome, somehow...

Warnings: Strong language

Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia!

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><p>The word <em>love<em> stung Arthur.

Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur. Had he really loved Arthur? The better question was if Arthur really loved Alfred. Alfred brushed his hand through Arthur's tangled hair. Everything felt like he had been dreaming. Everything felt like he had been back in England. As if he had been with his mother again.

Arthur threw himself out of Alfred's restraint.

Alfred tilted his head. "What's wrong?"

_Everything's wrong. _

Arthur gazed at Alfred's sea blue eyes. He lied "I have to go…"

Arthur grabbed for the bowl of soup, but was stopped by Alfred's warm, moist hands. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to talk about it." The thing was, he _did_ want to talk about it. He wanted to tell him that he missed England and his mother. Arthur wished his room didn't smell like smoke and bourbon, or to even have one home cooked meal once in a while. More importantly, he despised living with his obnoxious brothers whose life dreams are to destroy Arthur's. Not to forget his father who didn't give two shits about what he did, or remembered his birthday, or even paid the taxes.

Alfred squeezed his hands. "It has to do with your mother, doesn't it?"

Arthur sighed. "I don't like talking about it." This really translated into "it's more complicated than you think."

Alfred moved a strand of hair from Arthur's face. "I get it…"

_Alfred you would never understand_.

He gazed into Alfred's eyes. "I love you too, Alfred." Actually, it was the only thing in America that he loved.

His blue eyes gleamed.

"You know when you're not trying to be a hero all the time, you're actually tolerable," he said smugly.

Offended, Alfred added "Eh? I'm always trying to be a hero!"

Arthur began to look at the posters hung onto the wall. Most of them were golden framed newspapers about Alfred winning a football game, or screenshots of professional football stars. "You must really like football," he pointed out.

He nodded, "it's my passion." He scratched the back of his head and blushed, "actually it's the only thing I'm good at…"

Arthur snorted "come on, that can't be true."

Alfred stood blankly. "It's true! How else do you think I'm gonna go to college? Magic?"

Arthur forced a laugh. _Yeah, magic doesn't exist. _

"Have you thought about colleges yet?"

Arthur looked down at his feet. "I don't have enough money anyways…" His father never kept a stable job, especially with the current economic turmoil. Not to mention his mother's inheritance would most likely go to Eily. It was a surprise that the Kirklandfamily even had a house, or food. _Not like you would know what that's like…_

Alfred sheepishly said "sorry that I asked that."

Arthur waved it off, "it's nothing, although everyone at our school seems to be richer than me." _Especially you,_ he thought.

Someone knocked at the door. "Alfred, we're having dinner in ten minutes. Ask your friend if he wants to stay!"

"Thanks Matt," he called back.

"I really don't want to intrude…" Arthur began. He reached for his bowl of burnt soup.

"I really _want_ you to intrude!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and muttered "fine."

* * *

><p>Matthew was just setting the last plate on a wide mahogany table when Alfred and Arthur walked down the steps. The dinning room smelled like it had been newly refurbished. The brown paint was thick in the air, as well as the ashes of the burning fireplace.<p>

"Ah, looks like you accepted our offer for dinner tonight," Alfred's father noticed from the head of the table. He looked almost exactly like an older version of Alfred, except with longer and wavier hair, much like Matthew.

Arthur nodded. Alfred pulled out one chair and pantomimed for Arthur to sit. "You have a lovely house, Mr. Jones."

"What manners, Alfred. I bet you could learn a lot from him, eh?"

Alfred ignored his father's remark. "He just moved here! Isn't that cool? From some other place…it started with an E."

"England." Matthew corrected him taking a seat next to his father.

Alfred solicited still chewing on a piece of chicken "where did you live inEngland?"

Arthur shrugged. "I lived on the suburban outskirts of London, in Richmond."

Mr. Jones asked "so what made you want to move _here_?"

Arthur twiddled with his thumbs. _And here come the waterworks…_ He bit his lip to hold back his tears. "No reason."

"I hope you like chicken and mashed potatoes," Mrs. Jones announced with a large platter of chicken and a bowl of mashed potatoes. She had an obvious Canadian accent, just like Matthew. She settled them in the center of the large, banquet table. "Do you like chicken? Cause if not I could always make…"

"Chicken's good." He grabbed a chicken wing and placed it onto his plate. He had not had a real home cooked meal since England; except for the nights when they went out to eat. He missed his mother's home cooked lasagna and scones for dessert.

Mr. Jones spooned out a pile of mashed potatoes onto his plate. "So, did you join the football team too?"

"Dad," Alfred complained. "You think that all of my friends are on the football team!"

Mrs. Jones' blue eyes widened. "No sports?"

Arthur shook his head and reached for the mashed potatoes. "I played a little fo-soccer inEngland."

"Why don't you try out for the team? Alfred, isn't it soccer season?" Matthew asked cutting up his chicken thigh into small pieces. Arthur wasn't really into soccer as he focused more on academics and model UN. Not to forget that he would never make it past the first cuts for the team.

Arthur looked down at his plate. "Actually, I'm on the model UN team."

The table fell silent.

As if on cue, the Arthurs phone rang. "Please excuse me," he announced sliding out her chair and walked into the cream colored kitchen. The kitchen had marble counters and a gas stove neatly arranged alongside one of the walls. On the opposite wall were two large refrigerators alongside a few cabinets.

Arthur rolled his eyes reading the caller's name. His voice was shaky when he asked "hello?"

"Art! Why have you been ignoring my messages?" Dylan screamed into his phone.

Arthur shrugged and whispered "look, I'm eating now! Can I call you back?"

Agitated, Dylan answered "fuck no. I work I need to do!"

Arthur sighed and slammed his flip phone closed.

"Artie, what's wrong?" Alfred asked after peaking into the kitchen from the doorway.

Arthur sighed. "Nothing, just, I need to go. Tell your parents that I said thank you." He started to stride to the front door.

Alfred's eyes filled with sorrow "you're leaving?" He grabbed Arthur's sweaty hands.

Without an answer, Arthur stood silently and gazed into Alfred's sad eyes.

"Will you at least come to my football game tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever…" Arthur waved off.

Alfred asked "promise?"

Arthur tightened his grip on Alfred's hand. "I promise."

* * *

><p>"So how was it?" Dylan asked when Arthur opened the passenger door to his brother's rundown car. The smell of dead rats and fresh smoke made him cringe.<p>

Arthur shrugged. "Fine," he slammed the door behind him, loudly.

He combed his fingers through his red hair, noticing Arthur's temper. "And that means…?"

_What do you think it means you bloody git?_ _It means that I'm in love with Alfred Jones._

"Just…fine," he lied. _Fine_ was an understatement. Fine would be a night when Arthur could actually finish his homework without being harassed by his brothers. This was not one of those nights. "Oh, and I was invited to go to some football game tomorrow, wanna-"

"No," Dylan interrupted and turned out of the driveway. More like "not with you." None of Arthur's family was ever really fond of him, except his mother.

Arthur pouted "why not?"

"Just, because! Anyways go bring one of your girlfriends from model UN," he teased.

Arthur blushed. "I don't like anyone from model UN!"

"Then you could at least bring home one for me…"

"That's despicable."

"You're despicable," Dylan refuted as he was unable to think of a better comeback.

Arthur ignored his brother and leaned upon the passenger seat window. He watched the house grow smaller as they crossed the railroad tracks.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

><p>Author's notes: Hmmm...what's going on? Why is this so short? Does Arthur <em>really<em> love Alfred? Or is it just forced? Tee hee :) I love asking the reader questions! The ending of this chapter with Dylan was not my original intention, but it kinda just ended weirdly without it! Next chapter is a little more about Alfred and why everyone hates him. Why does everyone hate him? I guess you'll just have to wait and see! Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

Oh my beloved readers! This is BetweenDreamsAndReality again. This chapter was suprisingly easy to write [although it is a bit short, as always]. Trust me it won't be like this...It is really just more character developing and stuff like that. The first section is entirely in Alfred's persepctive and then the rest is in Arthur's. I hope you like this little twist of things. Most of my updates will not be this quick but I was totally out of my usual writer's block. Also, I can't believe people actually read this! Wow, this is just my ramblings...Okay whatever enjoy!

Warnings: Strong language

Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia! ALTHOUGH I WISH I DID!

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><p>"Alfred! Where were you yesterday! Matt said you were sick, but we all know that's bull shit." Gilbert explained as Alfred opened the door to the boy's locker room. The locker room was mostly empty except for Gilbert, Antonio and Francis who all insisted to change into their uniforms as quick as possible. They claimed it was some good luck ritual, although it was just to attract girls.<p>

Alfred sighed. "I really was sick," he lied. He dumped his books in front of his large, gym locker.

"Ya know we lost a game because of you," Antonio began taking out his red and blue uniform. Imprinted on his back was the number 17.

He rolled his eyes and muttered "sorry."

"Sorry isn't going to bring back a victory…" Francis yelled, and threw his shirt onto Alfred's head.

Alfred tossed it off like a dog. Agitated, Alfred screamed "will you all stop pestering me!" He exchanged his backpack for his red and blue uniform hanging from a hook. It was still a bit damp from sweat.

"Did something happen between you and Michelle?"

Gilbert smacked the back of Francis' blonde head. "Francis, why do you always think it's about love!"

_It's always about love_.

Francis rubbed the back of his head "well there's some flower here with Alfred's name attached to it! It's obviously _amour_."

Just as Francis had said, a rose laid on one of the wobbly benches with a note attached to it. His name was inscribed in cursive calligraphy.

_A__lfred._

Gilbert solicited "who's it from?"

_Arthur_.

"I have to go…" Alfred slammed his locker shut and began to stride out.

Antonio called out "you better be at the game today!"

"I will," Alfred announced and slammed the door to the locker room closed behind him.

Gilbert pondered "how the hell did Michelle get into the boy's locker room?"

Francis slapped Gilbert on the back. "Gil, it doesn't matter how. It's _amour_!"

* * *

><p>"Everybody come up and pick a country to represent from this hat," Mr. Wang exclaimed holding out a black hat that looked like it used to belong to a magician. The ten students in model UN pushed out their broken chairs and stood in a line beginning with Arthur.<p>

Arthur reached his scrawny hand into the hat filled with at least twenty crumbled pieces of paper. He grabbed one and unfolded the small creases. Inscribed in bold times new roman was one word.

_England__._

_Of course,_ he thought and crumbled the paper into a fist. He began to walk back to his desk when he saw a figure in the doorway. The figure was too tall and burly to be Dylan or Scottie. Shakily he asked "Alfred?"

Everyone, even Mr. Wang, craned their heads to the doorway to see Alfred actually staring through. "Can I borrow Arthur?"

Mr. Wang nodded in awe that Alfred Jones, captain of the high school's football team, was standing outside the model UN doorway. Nobody stood outside the model UN doorway, except if you were lost or drunk or Arthur's brothers.

Arthur joined Alfred in the doorway and gritted through his teeth "what do you want?"

Alfred smiled, "lighten up. I can't just come and see you?"

_No._

Arthur rolled his eyes and asked "here?"

He scoped the room noticing all the girls redoing their hair or makeup. Even Lili brushed aside her hair with her petite fingers. "What is this anyways?"

"Model UN," he answered bluntly and frankly a bit jealous of the attention he was getting. "Now, what do you want?"

Curiously, he asked "what is model UN?"

"You debate current events using the country you are representing. Now tell me why you're here," Arthur demanded.

He exclaimed "I want to join."

Arthur remembered what his brothers said about Alfred and laughed. "_You_ would join model UN?"

He nodded and grabbed Arthur's hands. "I want to be with you."

His eyes widened. _You want to be with girls…_

"I've gotta go though…we'll talk more after the game for pizza. I promise." He pecked Arthur on the cheek and left without any other words.

"What the hell was that about?" Yekaterina [1] asked coldly when Arthur reentered the room.

Still bewildered, Arthur responded "huh?"

"How is someone like _you_ friends with someone like _him_?"

Arthur smiled and answered with the only logical answer. "Magic."

* * *

><p>"Arthur?" A small voice asked. Shocked, Arthur looked up from his Sherlock Holmes book to see Lili staring at him. She was holding her large binders across her chest almost covering her face. He was sitting on a gray bleacher that only gets cleaned by the rain. He had not even noticed the game had begun almost seven minutes ago.<p>

"Oh, hello Lili, you like football?" He pushed his books onto the floor and motioned for her to sit next to him.

She accepted his offer and sat beside him. "My bruder's on the team. He's number 4. Why are you here?"

Arthur scratched the back of his head. "Oh, you kinda rubbing off on me…there's some interesting things…" he lied from the top of his head. Actually, he was attempting to do anything in his power to prevent himself from "Americanizing."

"Cool," she smiled naturally although she was not quite convinced.

Arthur began to watch the game unfold before him. To him, it just looked like one team was throwing the ball to their same team and the other team was trying to intercept it or it would just fall to the ground. _How does anyone find this bloody entertaining? Maybe I just don't understand the underlying concepts._ Arthur asked "so this kinda sounds like a weird question, but can you tell me how this bloody game even works?"

Lili perked up. "Sure! Well first, our team is the team in red and blue and they are currently playing defense. That means that they are trying to prevent the other team in green and yellow to get into the end zone over there." She pointed to the end zone.

Arthur continued to be confused. "So they have to try to throw the ball into that goal thing? Isn't this just soccer but with your hands?"

Lili smiled. "Not exactly…the team playing offense has four chances to move ten yards to get closer to the end zone. You have to run the ball through the end zone to score six points. Although, I bet it's not as easy as I say it is …"

"So what's that big goal thing for?"

"The goal posts? Well when you _do_ run into the end zone with the ball and score a touch down, you have a chance to earn an extra point by kicking the ball into the goal post."

Arthur sat in amazement. "This is the most complicated game I have ever watched." He watched in amazement as the other team began to gain five yards. "So…which one is Alfred?"

Lili's smile faded and muttered "number 50." She pointed to him.

"Why don't you like him?"

Lili forced a smile. "What are you talking about?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I might not know anything about football, but I do know about people. So tell me why you don't like him!"

"He's obnoxious and leads almost every girl on and then when you think he _really_ loves you, he moves on. He likes to ruin people's lives. I think he gets joy in people's pain."

Arthur's eyes filled with salty tears._ I'm nothing but a pawn in his game of chess. _

"Right now he's currently quote-un-quote going out with Michelle." She pointed to the cheerleader on top of the pyramid. She has brown hair that went half way down her back tied into two pigtails by red ribbons. "It's like law that quarterback and cheer captain have to go out. It's almost like good luck." Lili continued talking as Arthur became enthralled with his own thoughts of Alfred. He kept trying to assure himself that Lili is lying and that maybe he could change him. _I should at least enjoy the football game_, he thought.

He noticed that the red and blue team, referred to as the Patriots, were now on offense and Alfred was the one who had the ball. _Stop thinking about him_, he told himself, although his reassuring thoughts were not quite effective. He watched as the other team practically attacked Alfred and panicked, "Lili, what the hell are they doing to Alfred? We've gotta help him!" He began to stand up and wanted to sprint out and help him, no matter what Lili said about him. He's a person. He's his friends. No, he's more than a friend…

Lili grabbed his tense hand. "Relax, Arthur, it is part of the game…"

He hesitated before sitting down next to her, unsure of his feelings. There was only one thing he was sure of. He was with out a doubt in love with Alfred Jones.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

><p>1. Referring to Ukraine<p>

Author's Notes: Yellow, everybody! [very corny] I hope you liked this chapter. It's about time Arthur realizes he likes Alfred. Well, I mean he kinda did but now he actually truly feels this way! Ack! It's just so...kawaii~ [lack of better word].Also why is Arthur so stupid? So what do you think is going on with this love triangle thing? Trust me, it's more complex than you think. And what about Lili? What did Alfred do to her...hm? I'm even curious what my brain is going to think of next! Some answers revealed next chapter! Until then, PLEASE REVIEW! Onto chapter six! I still can't believe that I stuck with this story this far!


	6. Chapter 6

It's me again! OMG! This is my longest chapter so far! And I updated so fast! This is so shocking. Seriously. I've gotta stop pushing aside my work for this...haha! Anyways there are some unanswered questions that get answered. It's actually pretty boring! Who's ready for angsty love?

Warnings: Strong language, I guess some boy love...

Disclaimer: I sadly do not, and never will, own hetalia!

* * *

><p>For some odd reason, Arthur liked to be early to model UN. It was a quirk he and his mother had. Maybe it was because he had frowned upon his father and brother's behaviors, as they were continually late to every family event; even before his parents got a divorce. Or possible there was just something eerily comforting for Arthur. Either way, he was always fondly pleased being early.<p>

He turned last hallway in the school to the model UN classroom. Instead of seeing the usual empty hallway, he saw Alfred was arguing with Mr. Wang. He slid into one of the abandoned classrooms and listened through an open door, holding his breath. The room had been one of the original classrooms seeing as the door did not have a lock, and it smelled like a library. Not to mention the books stacked on the broken shelves were dusty books that were banned by the state years ago.

Mr. Wang shouted "no, I will not let you join!" His loud, harsh Chinese voice echoed through the empty hallway.

"Give me one good reason," Alfred spat.

He ignored his demand. "Why do you really want to join all of a sudden?"

"I don't know! It just sounded interesting…" he lied.

"Is model UN really the thing that interests you, or is it some girl? That's really why you want to join, aru."

Alfred yelled "that is so not true."

"Then why do you have such a sudden interest?"

"My dad," he lied.

He asked in disbelief, "your dad?"

He sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Ya know, he's really strict about my social studies grades. He thinks I should join this club to learn about current events."

Arthur rolled his eyes and knocked over a bookshelf. He cussed under his breath and shuffled to pick up the books before the two noticed.

Mr. Wang flailed his hands. "Fine, whatever, I guess we could always use another member."

_I can't believe he bought that_, Arthur thought picking up the last copy of The Color Purple.

Alfred's eyes gleamed.

"Go home and research over this weekend. I guess you'll have to representAmerica, since no one else will. Don't be late to the club, it is everyday after school."

Alfred smiled. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

* * *

><p>Sometimes, Arthur hated being early. He walked into the pizzeria at least fifteen minutes before he was supposed to meet Alfred. The door made an obnoxious ringing noise behind him. Katrina and another young lady perked up from daydreaming on the counter.<p>

"Hey, bushy brows," she called and waved him over.

Insulted, Arthur slumped himself into one of green booths lined up along the large windows.

Katrina rolled her beautiful eyes and slid in across from Arthur along with the other girl and dropped off two glasses of water. "Hey."

Arthur nodded. He looked at the two glasses of water, knowing she knew exactly why he was here. He wasn't too fond of strangers, even if Alfred knew her. Actually, since Alfred _did_ know her, he was more skeptical about her.

"You're the total opposite of that bastard American," she pointed out. Arthur didn't notice this before, but Katrina had a slight Italian accent.

"And you're just like him," he snuffed.

"I'm not like that hamburger loving bastard, you brutto [1]," she protested and crossed her arms across her chest.

"Katrina, that was rude. Apologize to him," the other girl insisted. She looked exactly like Katina, except her hair was a lighter shade of brown, almost orange. Not to mention her curl was on the opposite side of Katrina's.

"Shut up, Daisy [2]!"

"If you came over here just to insult me and yell at each other, I no longer require your services," Arthur grunted.

Katrina rolled her eyes and leaned over the table. She whispered, "that Alfred kid you're waiting for, he's not who you think he is."

Arthur smiled. "I've heard."

Katrina watched a car pull into a spot through the window and began to stand up. "Just saying…" She pulled Daisy along with her by her arm.

She split from Katrina's arms. "Sorry for my sister's behavior. She's usually not like this," she apologized and joined her sister behind the counter.

As if on cue, the door made another intolerable ding. Alfred smiled. "Art! You're already here!" He joined Arthur on the other side of the table.

"You sound surprised," Arthur smugly said.

"Did you like the football game?"

Arthur scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly. What was there to like? He found no entertainment in men chasing and attacking each other. "I still don't understand it."

Alfred laughed intolerably. "Come on, Art. It's pretty easy. I'll teach you one day!"

"I'd rather not; although I bet you don't find anything easy about researching America."

"You found out about that?"

Arthur nodded and smiled slyly. "I know a lot more than you think…"

Alfred smiled. "Do you know anything about American policies?"

Arthur giggled.

"What's so funny?"

Arthur answered "you! Why are you asking someone who's lived here for more than a week now?"

"I don't know anything about it! And you said you know a lot more than I think," Alfred defended.

Arthur continued to giggle.

"Will you help me?"

Arthur nodded.

"Oh yeah, Gilbert's throwing a party tomorrow and I was wondering if you were interested…"

Arthur remembered his conversation with Lili and his brothers. His anger and jealousy fueled his words. "No."

Alfred's blue eyes sagged. "Please…" he begged.

He crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm not a party person." Arthur was never too fond of partying. He actually found it awkward and worthless as everyone becomes too drunk to remember it the next day. Not to mention he did not even know Gilbert. Although, he knew him well enough to know his parties were the type that the police would have to break up.

Alfred shrugged. "I just thought it would be a good icebreaker for you! Meet my friends-"

Arthur loudly interrupted him. "No!"

Alfred slumped into his seat, humiliated.

There was a short period of silence before Alfred mumbled "can you tell me more about your life in…wherever you lived before?"

"It's England, you git."

He smiled, obviously unaware of what git meant. "Tell me about England."

Arthur raised one of his eyebrows. "Why are you so interested?"

Alfred shrugged. "You know a lot about me! Now I want to know all about you! Is there something wrong?"

Arthur shook his head and began "okay, well first off England is an island country in Europe. My life was quite boring there. I went to a private school and worked full time after that to pay for the bills. What else do you want to know?"

"Your mother," Alfred suggested.

Arthur stuttered "my m-mother?"

Alfred nodded twice.

He bit his lip, making it bleed. "My mother was put in a hospital in the beginning of September. It turned out her cancer had migrated and it was only time until it reached one of her vital organs." Tears began to swell in his eyes. "I'm boring you aren't I?"

Alfred clutched Arthur's hands as he usually did. "Please continue," he choked. His eyes were puffy and red as if actually felt Arthur's pain.

Arthur looked at his own hands being clutched by Alfred and felt safe. "Weeks later, the cancer spread to her brain and she, uh, passed. That's why I moved here."

Alfred squeezed Arthur's hands tighter. "Ya know, someone once told me that everything happens for a reason."

Through his red face Arthur cocked an eyebrow. "And you think that my mother's passing "happened for a reason"…?" He couldn't believe that. His mother did not deserve to die. Also, he neither deserved to live with his father or brothers.

Alfred shrugged "it brought you to me, now didn't it?"

Arthur smiled and wiped a tear away with his sleeve.

"Looks like you got a message." He pointed to Arthur's Razor phone.

"Oh," he wiped a tear from his cheek.

_We're going to crush your ass at poker. Dad says be home by six so we can start. All or nothing! You in? ~Scottie_

Arthur looked at his small wristwatch to see it was already five thirty. The sky was already painted a light pink shade. Poker was the one thing Arthur always dominated in, although the prize was always just a six pack of beer, and it was usually the crappy American brands like Bud Lite. Nevertheless, Arthur still wanted to see his brothers sob when they would lose. There was nothing better than that. "Alfred, I've gotta go," he lied and flung his backpack over his shoulder.

Alfred reached for his hands. "Can I at least drive you home?"

Arthur shrugged. "Uh, sure."

Alfred smiled. "Great! You'll be my first passenger in my new car." He pulled Arthur alongside him as they exited the restaurant. He climbed into a blue convertible and motioned for Arthur to join him.

Arthur opened the door to the passenger seat. The car was spotless, except for the extra large Styrofoam cup in his cup holder. It smelled like a mix between greasy food, new car leather and pine trees. "_This_ is your car?"

Alfred tilted his head. "What's wrong with it?"

Arthur shook his head. "Nothing is wrong with it, that's the problem."

Alfred smiled and turned the engine on. "I like the top off, want it off?"

Arthur shrugged. "Whatever, I don't really care."

Alfred began to speed away from the restaurant heading towards the northern side of the town, where all the rich students lived. His hair began to whisk in the wind, blowing into his face. Arthur giggled. He yelled over the sounds of traffic, the radio and the wind "now what street are you again?"

He contemplated lying about his address but admitted "Alice Court."

"Alice Court, did I hear you correctly?" The light turned red and he eased into a stop.

Arthur nodded ashamed of his poverty. "I'm not that rich, you know."

"Art, I don't care how rich or how poor you are. I love you for you." The light turned green and he slammed his foot down on the gas. "So how do you get there?"

"Uhh just cross the railroad tracks and go straight for a while. I think it's the second right and it is house number 23."

"'Kay," Alfred perkily replied.

The rest of the car ride was particularly quiet except for some small talk about the weather. "It's this one." Arthur pointed to a small split level house. There was a lot of overgrowth and untrimmed, more like never trimmed, hedges which shielded the large window from seeing out or in. Dylan's rundown car was parked in the small driveway in front of the broken garage.

Alfred pulled up to the house, put the gear shift into park and they both unstrapped their seatbelts. "Are you sure you don't want to come tomorrow?" He followed behind Arthur like a shadow.

He ignored the question. "Why are you walking me to my doorstep? I'm not a child…" he proclaimed stepping up the narrow stairs to his front door. He hated being treated like a child, because he's the youngest of the Kirklands. He was practically eighteen.

"I want to meet your family! Well, I already know your infamous brothers, but I want to formally meet them."

He rang the doorbell once. "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of you. It only matters what you think." In reality, he just didn't want to confess to his brothers and father that he was homosexual. Not yet, at least. _Mom, I wish you were here,_ he thought.

"And I think you're perfect." He grabbed Arthur and pulled him into a deep kiss.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

><p>1. Literally means brute, nasty, ugly or mean in Italian (Confession: I don't take Italian, I had to ask my friend and google translate...)<p>

2. Referring to Fem!Italy

Author's notes: Woah! A little bit of boy love right there! This chapter was so long, and boring. But it was really fun to write! I love writing nonsense. Haha Arthur has a Razor. Remember those phones? Next chapter is going to get intense! GET EXCITED! It's going to be told completely in Alfred's perspective. Oooh! What's going to happen? Might be some mildly mature themes, **so you have been warned!** I wouldn't consider it _mature, mature_ but rated T. Maybe TM? I don't know! I don't want to reveal my intentions! Ugh, I'm so conflicted. Okay, since school restarted I will be writing less, or maybe more. I don't really know. PLEASE REVIEW! Thrilling chapter ahead! [It's about time something _actually_ happens...]

-2/1/12- sorry for the update but I just had to fix something...nothing major just in the chapter before, Alfred at first said something about meeting him for pizza after the game, but I changed it to the next day [if you are keeping up with the dates...] okay. sorry for that :)

-2/1/12 AGAIN!- sorry I'm updating again butI made my friend, also known as my editor, review it. And she doesn't even know hetalia. Actually, she knows it as the dumb show with the countries and hates it because all I do is talk about it...Whatever, it turns out I have _a lot_ of mistakes in this chapter! I mean, everyone has mistakes but this chapter had _a lot_. Mostly because this was such a long chapter and I published it really late and...uhh, yeah. Sorry if I keep updating! I really don't mean to! (Also I kinda used 2011 above and that's just kinda weird)


	7. Chapter 7

Bonjour! I'm feeling kinda French today if you could consider that an emotion. Maybe it's something about mornings...Anyways! Look something thrilling is about to happen! What could it be? Also, I could tell Michelle hasn't been giving off such a good vibe to everyone..._GOOD!_ I was toying around with this idea for a while, but I was at first going to do something with Arthur and Alfred but now I CREATED THIS! Somehow...And it took me a while to write. And damn is it short! (I guess it makes up for last chapter). And sorry for all the typos, my "editor" doesn't actually edit my work, she just yells at me for having so many grammar mistakes. This is all told from Alfred's POV, kinda...Well, enjoy and review!

Warnings: Strong language, and really bad written mature-ish themes

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia!

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><p>"Coming," Alfred heard Gilbert announce opening the front door with his left hand and holding Elizaveta with his right. "Al, it's about time, this party was getting a little boring."<p>

"Your parties are never boring," Alfred laughed and walked inside. The main room was patted by two emerald ornate rugs contrasting the off white painted walls. There were two tables neatly aligned near the kitchen, with rows of beer bottles and red cups were placed. The atmosphere was filled with familiar faces mingling. Francis waved him over to the back corner.

"Al! We all thought you weren't gonna show," Francis began as Alfred strode over.

"Here, have a beer. You look tense," Antonio noted and handed him one of his red cups. It was obvious that Alfred had been not been himself lately. He had been skipping football practices and missing phone calls, although Antonio was not the first person to catch on.

Alfred peaked in to see it was only half full.

"Don't worry, I didn't drink it," he admitted.

Alfred shrugged and took a sip. It tasted stronger than the usual German beer Gilbert and Ludwig served, but oddly, it was better.

"Where's _Katrina_," Francis teased.

Antonio slurped the rest of his beer. "She's not a party person," he defended.

"Everyone's a party person, _mes amis_ [1]," Francis exclaimed.

Alfred rolled his eyes and crunched his empty cup in his fist.

"You've been awfully quiet! Something's on your mind?" Antonio asked quickly to change the subject.

Alfred shrugged and grabbed another cup of beer. "Nothing's on my mind." This was an obvious lie. All he could think about Arthur. It was all he could ever think of.

Francis announced "it's Michelle."

Angrily he protested "damn it Francis, why do you always think it is about Michelle?" His words already began to slur as the truth became clearer.

"Stop denying _tu amor _[2]," Antonio explained patting Alfred's back.

"What about you and Katrina?" Francis snickered, returning to the previous conversation.

Antonio rolled his eyes. "I never said we were dating…" He took another mouthful of beer.

"Either are Liz and Gil, and they like they are having a great time!" Francis pointed to Gilbert holding Elizaveta around her waist and nipping at her neck.

"It's not the same!"

"_l'amour c'est l'amour [3]_!"

"Coming from the man who would fuck a tree if it was legal!"

Francis waved him off. "Al, go talk to her," he suggested pointing to the group of cheerleaders gossiping near the stairs.

Alfred shrugged and stumbled over, "hey Michelle!"

Stunned, Michelle tripped and fell into Alfred's strong arms. Her olive cheeks flared a light shade of pink. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she began.

An Asian girl snickered.

Alfred steadily placed her back on her feet. "You okay?"

"My ankle kinda hurts though, and my head is throbbing. I think I need to lie down." She grabbed her forehead.

"I'll take you to Gil's room," he announced with a smile.

Michelle smiled back and locked her arm around Alfred's back. Her smile was genuine and pure. She leaned upon him for support as they walked up four wooden steps and into Gilbert's room.

Gilbert's room was also painted an eerie shade of cream covered by thousands of posters of a German band Alfred's never heard of. In the center of the room was a queen size bed with ugly green sheets, which he set Michelle upon.

She sighed and clutched her ankle. "Thanks, Al."

He sat beside her and slurred "don't mention it."

"Well, I'll have to return the favor," she hinted and pulled on his baggy shirt. Within seconds, he was pinning her to the bed in a deep kiss. She loosened two buttons on Alfred's shirt and caressed his chest with her petite hand. Too drunk to refuse, Alfred continued, like a lifeless pawn.

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><p>"Get the fuck up," a hoarse voice exclaimed, tugging on Alfred.<p>

Alfred fluttered his eyes open, and then quickly shut them due to the sun shining in from the open window. "Dude, you said I could stay!"

Gilbert sighed and strode over to the doorway. "Well my parents are coming at noon."

"What time is it?"

"Six. So wake your girlfriend and get the fuck out!" He slammed the door behind him, leaving only an echo.

Alfred's eyes shot wide open and yelled to no one "girlfriend?" He clutched his throbbing head with his right hand. All he could remember was his conversation with Francis and Antonio and having maybe one too many beers. How did he end up in Gilbert's bed?

Alfred looked over to see a cafe skinned girl silently dreaming. Two red ribbons were nestled in her fist. Alfred tugged on her arm. "How the hell did I get here?"

She yawned and muttered "hmm?"

He noticed his shirt was unbuttoned. Urgently he asked "Michelle, what happened last night!"

"I don't know," she smiled smugly and sat up. All of her clothes were wrinkled but still on. It, now, became obvious to Alfred that she had been completely sober last night.

"I'm serious."

"We didn't even hit second base," she complained slyly and then stretched.

Alfred snorted "not funny."

She forced her body to stand up. "I could take you home now, or we could do something else..." she hinted and attempted to kiss him on the cheek.

"Not interested," he answered and reached for his phone in his jeans' pockets. He scrolled without delay through his contact list. Home was completely out of the question. Coming home hung over to the headmaster of a Catholic private school was not such a good idea. His next option was Antonio who was without a doubt with Katrina. Then, there was Francis who was either having intercourse or…well he's always having intercourse.

"Aw, you used to be so much fun! What happened?"

Alfred ignored her comment and hit send into one of his contacts. After the fourth ring, someone groggily asked "hello?"

"This might sound kinda weird but can I come over now?"

"How did you get my number? And it's bloody six in the morning, you git!"

"Is that a yes?"

He sighed and muttered "okay, yeah just be quiet. My dad already left for work but my brothers are still alseep."

"See you in five minutes!"

He muttered something softly before leaving a dial tone in his place.

"Who was that?"

Alfred ignored her comment. "Can you drive me somewhere?"

Michelle raised an eyebrow. "Uhh…okay, but don't think that I'm your chauffeur when you're drunk. What's the address?"

Alfred yawned and said "23 Alice Court."

_To Be Continued…_

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><p>1. Translates to my friends in French (or so my friend said)<p>

2. Your love in Spanish

3. Love is love in French

Author's notes: Ooh! How thrilling! I hate Michelle. She's such a bitch! Wasn't it kinda anticlimatic! Yeah. It was really rushed because I'm working on something else and third quater began and I JUST WANT IT TO END! Speaking of endings, this one also ended abruptly, but I think it works. I think his heart will lead him where he needs to be [I am so corny] and by the way, it was Arthur on the phone. (My stupid editors was like: no one is going to know who it is although I bet none of you are as stupid as her!) Also my translations are really bad because I'm relying on a high school student...don't ask. Anyways next chapter will be less thrilling but it will have more UsUk so get pumped! I don't know if I should put a warning so I will just in case. WARNING NEXT CHAPTER MIGHT HAVE YAOI SCENES! The key word is might...but of course it wouldn't be like sex or anything like that. Not yet...just kidding! It's rated T right? Spoiler Alert: next chapter is Arthur's POV. Haha you thought I was _actually_ going to spoil something! Tee hee! Also, don't forget to **REVIEW**! See you next chapter! Hopefully...


	8. Chapter 8

Hello my dear readers. Wow this chapter is long, and random and actually quite boring. You learn a little more about Alfred and Arthur and there is _some_ really tamed yaoi. VERY TAMED! I'm sorry if I got your hopes up...but no. No yaoi, yet. Haha it's rated T! I think this is my longest chapter. Seriously. And nothing even happens! If you're expecting thrilling, it's either going to be in the next chapter or the chapter after that. Then story just needs some calm moments after a storm. Actually, this is just the eye of the storm...it's going to get good! I'm projecting about twenty (give or take) chapters. I have some ideas but I don't know how it's going to play out. Sorry for not updating at all in the past week. I'm really sorry. I've been kinda busy with school work (and getting obsessed with sherlock) but now I'm back. I'VE BEEN REVIVED! Thanks for all the kind reviews. I want to hug all of you! REMEMBER TO READ AND REVIEW!

Warnings: Strong language, and some more tame yaoi moments

Disclaimer: I really do not own hetalia. Seriously, I don't.

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><p>Arthur rolled over in his bed. There was nothing worse than waking up early. He looked at the flashing red numbers on his alarm clock again. <em>6:14.<em> His phone vibrated on his nightstand once more. It was the same foreign number who had called before. Only, it was fourteen minutes later. "What," he gritted through his teeth making sure to keep Scottie asleep in the bed beside his.

"I've been outside for like a minute now!"

Arthur sighed and rolled out of his bed. "I'm coming," he forced himself to say. He slammed his phone closed and silently walked out of his room. _Bloody American,_ he told himself.

He opened the front door slowly, seeing Alfred unsteadily swaying, still talking to his phone. His eyes were bloodshot and surrounded by dark circles. "Alfred you look awful."

He sighed and slurred "it was a rough night."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'll go run a bath for you. In the mean time, just be quiet and don't touch anything!"

Alfred nodded and collapsed himself on the broken couch. It was an ugly couch that his father probably got at the dump. There was stuffing and springs sticking out, as well as one of the legs were missing. Arthur tossed the remote into his lap before walking into the bathroom. The bathroom was painted green and yellow and was rusting near the edges. The room itself was tightly packed and sometimes the warm water didn't run. _Must've been some party_, he told himself. He twirled the warm knob twice and closed the drain. He ran his finger under the faucet and burnt his finger along the way. He cussed under his breath before returning into the main room.

"Do you need anything else?"

Alfred shook his head. "I didn't know you were a wizard."

Arthur looked stunned. "Huh?" _He must be very drunk right now_.

He pointed to an open book on a glass coffee table. "So do you, like, go to Hogwarts and stuff like that? Do you know Harry Potter?"

"Oh uh," he blushed, "it's my brothers, you bloody git," he lied and turned the book over to hide the cover.

Alfred nodded. "I've only heard things about your brothers. What are they like?"

"Uh well…" he stopped his sentence to hear water dripping onto the bathroom's tiled floor. "Shit!" He ran over to the bathroom and twisted the knobs to the right.

Alfred joined him within a couple of seconds. "What happened?"

"Oh, the bath kinda overflowed. I'll just clean this up…" He grabbed two towels that obviously haven't been cleaned lately. He began to scrub the floor with them. "I'm so sorry! I'm still not really used to this house…"

Alfred leaned down and kissed Arthur on his forehead. "Thanks for having me anyways."

Arthur stared blankly at him. "Oh yeah, well…" he stuttered. "I left some clothes for you hanging right there. If you need anything I'll be in the kitchen. It's the room next to the one we were just in. You can't miss it." Arthur closed the door behind him and sighed. What was he going to do when his brothers woke up?

He tossed that thought aside and went into the kitchen. Arthur grabbed a frying pan and a spatula before turning on the gas stove. He opened the refrigerator and reached for five eggs. He cracked all five onto the frying pan as he heard a pair of footsteps trample each other down the steps. "Why are you up so early?" Scottie asked and ruffled Arthur's blonde hair.

"And why are you making breakfast? Ya know nobody is going to eat it," Dylan announced and joined his brother at the kitchen table.

"Actually, I have a guest." He flipped over the eggs with his spatula.

Scottie spurred "a guest? Please let it be someone hot!"

"And where is your _guest_? Don't say it's another one of your fairy friends," Dylan teased.

"In the bathroom," Arthur announced and flipped the eggs over once more.

"Uh huh, and my friends are sitting right there," Scottie proclaimed sarcastically pointing to an empty chair.

He rolled his eyes and said "very funny."

"Since Dad is out we're going to get some real food," Dylan explained. They both pushed out their chair and grabbed the car keys from the counters.

"And why is that!"

"'Cause we're not going to eat five burnt eggs," Scottie snickered from the front door, noticing the top of the eggs were black.

"Shit," Arthur cussed as the two left laughing. He frantically went to turn off the stove.

"Art!" Alfred's voice was muffled by the sound of the water being drained. "What the hell is that smell?"

"Oh sorry," Arthur called back and dumped the eggs into the garbage can.

"Can you come in here?"

Arthur strode over to the bathroom and asked "sure, what is it?" He walked in to see Alfred was only wearing a pair of jeans. "Oh, sorry, maybe I should…"

Alfred pinned him against the wall. His breath still smelled of beer and vomit. His body wet body pressed against Arthur. He brushed his lips against Arthur's.

For one split second, all of their problems disappeared.

* * *

><p>"Artie, we're home," Scottie obnoxiously announced, as if slamming the door did not already give it away.<p>

"We're in here," he called back from the kitchen. He had just made tea, even though Alfred didn't seem to be enjoying it. Instead, his blue eyes stared at his reflection in the mug labeled _Number One Father_ Scottie had bought for their father for Father's day ten years ago.

"Well that's just…" Dylan paused. He and Scottie stared in disbelief as they entered the kitchen.

Arthur tilted his head and asked with a sly smile "just what?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," Dylan lied and slid himself into one of the empty chairs at the kitchen table.

Scottie curled his lip. "Not be rude, but why the fuck is _he_ here? And in _my_ clothes?" He noticed Alfred was wearing his leather bomber jacket over one of his blue shirts.

"He didn't fit into any of my clothes, and I told you, he's my friend."

Dylan snorted "what idiot would _want_ to be friends with _you_?"

"Plenty," Arthur lied. Even inEngland, he barely had any friends. He never actually had time to make real friends between model UN, his school work, worrying about his mother and his job.

"We don't mean your _imaginary _ones," Scottie teased.

Infuriated, Arthur attacked Scottie's throat. He wrapped his arms around his neck making Scottie's face turn into a shade of ashen white.

"Artie, calm down," Alfred insisted as he held him back around the waist, and began to drag him out of the kitchen.

"Let go of me you bloody git," he resisted and attempted to scratch Alfred's arms. He began to flail his arms and legs in any chance to unlock himself from Alfred. He was no match for Alfred's inhuman strength, seeing as he was almost a half of a foot shorter than him. "Put me down!"

"Do you promise you won't go back in there and slap him across the face again?"

Arthur sighed. "If you let me down…"

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise, Alfred! Now let me down," he demanded. Almost immediately, he was returned to the ground.

"Now, are you going to help me study for model UN?"

The question caught Arthur off guard. "Huh? Oh yeah, I have my American History textbook in my room…"

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"You," Arthur replied back with the same childish tone Alfred always had. He sprinted up the steps carelessly, with Alfred following close behind. Arthur opened his bedroom door and proclaimed "I win!"

"As reward, you get to tutor me," Alfred teased and collapsed on one of the beds.

"Oh come on," he waved aside. "You can do better than _that_." He leaned in and pecked Alfred on the cheek.

Alfred smiled. "That_ is_ better."

Arthur walked over to his bookshelf and pulled out his American History textbook. "I'm still going to tutor you."

"Aw you were so cute when you were little," Alfred announced holding a golden framed picture from Arthur's night table.

"Give me that!" He snatched the picture from Alfred's hands only to see it was not a picture of him from his youth. It was his brother Peter when he was seven. He was sitting on a pier smiling at the camera in a sailor outfit and a matching blue hat. He had browner hair than Arthur's and thinner eyebrows.

"Don't be ashamed. I think you were adorable."

"It's not me," he grumbled and placed the picture back on the night stand. It was the only picture his family kept of Peter. He sat down on the other bed and flipped open the textbook. "Now you should know the American government is-"

Alfred interrupted "then who is it?"

"One of my brothers, now will you stop being so irritable and listen to me!"

"Just tell me who he is!"

"Fine," Arthur sighed. "It was the year my mother and father got a divorce, so I was ten. It was Sunday so my father was watching football with me and my brothers and sister. Everything after that happened really fast. The smoke alarm went off so we all went outside, except for Peter who refused to leave without his favorite stuffed animal bird. He was burned to death. It doesn't matter anyways. None of my brothers ever liked me…" he trailed off. The room became silent for a couple of seconds. "Anyways this has nothing to do with model UN! You're going to make a fool of our school and yourself at the competition in two weeks."

"Re_lax_," he laughed. From the corner of Arthur's eye, he saw Alfred pick another object up from his night stand. "So what's this, your _wand_?"

Arthur demanded "give that back, you bloody git!" He flung his textbook at him, although he missed by a few centimeters.

"Fine," Alfred pouted and gave him back his wand. "So are you a wizard?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Does having a wand automatically make me a wizard?"

Alfred nodded.

Arthur sighed. "I'm not a wizard. I'm just very found of magic, you git."

"Wizard," Alfred coughed.

Arthur rolled his eyes and placed his wand back on his nightstand. "Do you have any more questions?"

"Yeah, do you think your magic could cure my headache? I feel like shit."

Arthur chuckled. "You know, there's this magically thing called Tylenol. I'll go get some from the medicine closet." He walked across the hallway and took out a box of Tylenol.

"But it makes me sleepy…" Alfred complained.

"Quit your whining and just swallow the blood pills," he explained shoving the pills into Alfred's hand.

Alfred gulped them both down and sighed. "I'm going to fall asleep within the next two minutes."

"That's fine. I have to clean up around here anyways," he began, noticing his boxes of books were still unpacked from the move.

"Will you promise me something?" He gripped Arthur's arm.

He nodded.

"You'll be here when I wake up."

Arthur laughed. "You git, this is my house."

"Just promise me." He squeezed harder on Arthur's arm.

"I promise."

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>Author's notes: Hello once more! I don't know why I have two notes (one at the top and one at the bottom but...I like it!) Here are some popular questions no one has asked me but I have thought of myself. 1)<span> Why is he always making promises?<span> Promise is a strong word you know, but you'll see how it unfolds. 2) Why is he always trying to hold his hand/arm? Another great question I have for myself. Hmmm I don't know. Maybe something to do with Alfred's past...oooh just got an idea! But I can't tell you...sorry. 3) Why am I making Arthur's life so messed up? That's a dumb question for myself. Hmmm maybe because it keeps you on your toes? I don't know. Maybe for sympathy. Or maybe, Peter never existed and it was a figment of his imagination. Maybe all of his stories are lies, and he just does not want to cope with reality...oooh my thoughts are getting good! Wow, I am seriously mental. 4) Why are my characters so bipolar? First off, Alfred is hungover so obviously he is actually weird. And I just like to make Arthur very bipolar. I mean he likes Alfred but he's ashamed because of his brothers and Lili, and maybe he also has feelings for Lili. I don;t know. And lastly 5) Why are my longest chapters the boring ones and the shortest ones are the thrilling ones? Hmmm...that's how my mind works. I like boring. I am a boring person! I like the fluffy boy love aspect. BTW THIS ISN'T A THRILLING STORY! This is one of those pathetic romantic comedies everyone goes to the movies and pays $11 dollars even though it only got a B- in EW and will never win an academy award. I'm actually thinking about writing a thrilling, action, (must add some romance) fanfiction...maybe. Okay, I hope this self Q and A has not answered any questions for you, because what kind of writer would I be if I just told you everything. That's no fun...Oh my god I just babbled for like 200 words that no one is going to read anyways. Oh I am so sorry! **REMEMBER TO REVIEW!** See you next chapter...


	9. Chapter 9

Yup, I updated again! Welcome to another installment of Starcrossed! What's in store for us this time? Uhhh the first part is another boring "I love you" angsty scene but the last part gets a bit interesting. It develops Matthew and Alfred's friendship...or something more. -haha I would never. This story is a proud UsUk love-dovey angsty story. I think last time I said something about 20 chapters...uh I'm going with 30ish now. And an epilogue! Yes, an epilogue! I'm already thinking about the ending but not the middle...damnit! Whatever! Remeber to review! I feel bad that I never actually respond to my reviews so here's my large response right now: I LOVE ALL OF YOU AND YOU'RE ALL AWESOME AND THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Warnings: Strong language, a bit of boy love and some slightly mature themes (just incase)...

Disclaimer: /In mild depression/ because I will never own hetalia!

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><p>It was almost two in the afternoon when Alfred finally woke up. "Wow, you've got a lot of books," he announced.<p>

Startled, Arthur dropped one of his books. He turned around and scratched the back of his head. "Oh, hey you're finally awake. Yeah, I guess I do have a lot of books." His slanted bookshelf was now completely filled with classic British literature.

Alfred yawned and yanked the forest green covers off of his body. "I told you Tylenol makes me drowsy."

Arthur forced a laugh and picked up Shakespeare's Macbeth and lazily placed it on the only sturdy shelf of his bookcase. "You can say that again."

"I told you Tylenol makes me drowsy," he said with a bright smile.

Arthur smiled at his stupidity.

"You should smile more."

Arthur eyes widened. "What?"

"Someone once told me that everyone should smile, because you never know who's going to fall in love with it."

Arthur bit his lip, flustered at Alfred's comment. "Oh really?"

He nodded and added "also I just love seeing you smile."

Arthur blushed at Alfred's ability to be an open book around him. "I like seeing you smile too."

If almost on cue, some pop nonsense with meaningless lyrics blasted from Alfred's pocket, making Arthur lose his balance for a fraction of a second. "Sorry," Alfred explained sitting up and fished out an iPhone from his pockets. He asked "hello?" There was a short pause before he complained "now?" He looked at the alarm clock beside him, sighed, and replied "fine. Goodbye," he muttered and sat up. "I've gotta go," he told Arthur and rubbed his forehead.

Arthur frowned "really?" He refused to pry of Alfred's social life. He was a gentleman, and gentlemen do not interfere. Anyways, he knew Alfred would just tell him, right?

"Yeah, Matt said he's coming soon…ya know," he said unconvincingly.

"Oh, yeah," he said awkwardly. _Who was Matthew again? Was Matthew his obnoxious blonde friend from the library? Or was Matthew his father? God damn it why am I so bad at name? _

"But I don't want to leave," he whined and swung his legs off of his bed. "You didn't even teach me anything about American government!" His eyes began to water.

"Alfred, calm down. I'll see you tomorrow right? It's not like forever…" Arthur looked into Alfred's sad eyes from above him. Even when he was sitting on his bed, he was almost taller than him. Almost.

"You know I love you, no matter what," Alfred said out of nowhere, looking at Arthur's wood tiled floor.

"And I do too," Arthur said unpersuasively and kissed Alfred on his forehead.

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><p>Alfred barged into Matthew's room and asked "Matt? Can I talk to you about something?" Matthew's room was painted a light green color rather than light blue.<p>

Matthew twirled around on his blue, office chair and nodded. His computer screen was still on some newspaper website about polar bears. He was always environmentally conscientious. Or maybe it was because in the third grade, he did a project about polar bears and has been obsessed since. He even had a stuffed polar bear he used to carry around.

"It's kinda important."

Matthew knew what this meant. He sat down on the white carpeted floor across from Alfred. "Is about Gilbert's party last night?"

Alfred's eyes widened. "How did you…oh never mind, but yeah."

Matthew stared with an I'm-your-brother-I-know-you-too-well look. Or maybe, he wasn't an idiot. "Just continue."

"Well, let's just say that I was drunk and well…you know what happens when I'm drunk…"

"So you're saying that Michelle took advantage of you while you were drunk, again."

Alfred gaped. "How the fuck fo you know all of this?"

Matthew reached into his pockets for his iPhone and revealed a text message from Kiku. Attached was a picture of Michelle making out with him. "What's so wrong with that? I thought that you…oh I see, you're in love with someone else."

Alfred nodded slowly. _Is he a mind reader?_

"It's Arthur isn't it...?"

Alfred nodded once more. _He's a mind reader or at least stalking me_.

"Does he know about this?"

"Kinda, sorta," Alfred lied.

"So…no?"

Alfred forced a smile.

"Al," Matthew whined.

"How can I tell him 'hey I love you and everything but I was drunk last night and I was kinda hooking up with Michelle'!"

"If you love him, you would…" Matthew began.

Alfred fiddled with his thumbs. "I guess you're right." _Matthew's always _right. He reached for Matthew's wrists. They were wet, again. "Matthew," he shouted angrily.

Matthew cringed.

"I thought you said you stopped this nonsense!"

"I did," he lied. He rolled up Matthew's long sleeved shirt to the back of his wrists were lined with red. Matthew cringed and rolled his sleeves back down. "I can explain…"

Alfred stood up, infuriated by his brother. "Really? I'd love to hear why you're recklessly killing yourself!"

"Shut up," Matthew sobbed slapping Alfred's arm. "I just…I just want to know I'm still alive."

"And slitting your wrists will! Do mom and dad know about this?"

"Of course they don't! And you promised you're going to keep it that way!"

"Shouldn't the medicine and inhaler help?"

"Al, there's no cure for asthma. My breathing's just gonna get worse and worse. I might as well quit while I'm still ahead," he sobbed.

He clutched Matthew's arms. "What about the polar bears? Don't you want to go to Antarctica? Don't you want to be one of those science-y people with the white coats? Don't you want to find a cure for global warming?"

"Those are just fantasies. I'm not _going_ to be one, anyways…"

"Matt, sometimes it is okay to fantasize! And one day you will be one! And if natural causes kill you then so be it, but I am never going to let my little bro die because of _this_."

Matthew wiped a tear away with his sleeve. "Thanks Al," he whispered softly and force a smile.

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>Author's notes: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'd just like to say I hated the ending of this chapter...as usual! But what did you think! It's short and to the point. I love making Matthew this sly bastard! And why did Kiku take a picture of Michelle and Alfred making out? I don't know. I'm going with because in fanart Kiku's usually taking pictures of the others making out or whatever so I kinda just used that! Is that mean or just...whatever! I actually answered a question: why does Alfred hold Arthur's hands? Well…it's because he's afraid that he's also mildly depressed like Matthew. I'd just like to say that Arthur probably would be someone who is depressed all the time…just saying. And Alfred is so emotional! And overdramatic! Next chapter we'll see if Alfred tells Arthur if he's been "cheating" on him (even though they're not officially dating) or if Arthur finds out himself… Also chapters this week may be updated more frequently. Just this week. REMEMBER TO REVIEW!<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

Hello, it's me again! I can't believe I actually updated! I was going to update for President's day, but I'm too lazy. This was actually very hard to write for some reason, and I bet next chapter is going to be harder. Is it too confusing with the whole change in POVs? I think I might start to put the change in POVs at the top...maybe. I hope it isn't _too_ confusing...Anyways, THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED I WANT TO GIVE YOU ALL VIRTUAL HUGS AND COOKIES! Mwah! Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Remember to review!

Warnings: Not so strong language

Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia!

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><p>"I hope you all researched this weekend! Seeing as our first competition is…" Mr. Wang paused, irately gazing at the doorway.<p>

"Sorry I'm late…" Alfred said as he walked into the classroom, blushing. Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Just take your seat, aru," Mr. Wang said annoyed, possibly because he was in his football uniform. He pointed to the only empty seat next to Arthur with his blue ink pen. "Now as I was saying. Our first competition is next weekend, so we are going to begin to practice debating with our peers, aru."

Everyone groaned, except Alfred, in which case 'debate' was probably out of his vocabulary.

"Now, now one-on-one debating is a crucial skill. It teaches you to think off the top of your heads. And it also prepares you for what other competitors are going to say. Now everyone just pick a partner and begin your debate. Our topic today is the fight against terrorism," he said with a sincere smile.

"Wanna be my partner?"

Arthur sighed and forced a smile. "Sure, Alfred, I'd love too," he lied preferring to discuss with someone who would actually stimulate the conversation.

The American beamed. "Oh yeah, I forgot, I still have your coat. My mom washed it and stuff but I think you would want it back." He held out a yellow, plastic bag from the supermarket with the jacket stuffed inside.

Arthur waved him off. "Keep it, I think it suits you. It's Scottie's anyways…"

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. Nothing would anger Scottie more than having Alfred Jones wear his old jacket. "Now let's begin, as representative ofEngland, we believe tracking down terrorism is vital to maintain peaceful lifestyles for our citizens. Further more, we will endeavor to prevent attacks by any necessary means."

There was a short pause.

"Alfred, you're supposed to give your opening statement," he gritted through his teeth making sure Mr. Wang wouldn't overhear him.

"Oh, yeah, that," he laughed. "Uh…"

"Did you even research?"

"Yes," he defended.

Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly.

"I've just got something on my mind…"

Annoyed, Arthur asked "and that would be…?"

"Not now. Maybe later, like six o'clock after football. And over a slice of pizza, it's kinda serious."

"Whatever," he said clenching his fists. _I don't care about your trivial problems_, he thought. "Now will you please get back to the debate!"

"Sure, yeah, uh…America…we want freedom…and terrorism prevents freedom?" he stuttered doubtful about his answer.

_Is he just making this up or did he actually study? _"Continue…"

"What should I say?"

Arthur inhaled loudly. "Say how an American would prevent terrorism."

Alfred paused and let out a cool breath of air. "I don't know…"

"How would _you_ prevent terrorism?"

"I would go bomb their asses! I'm a hero," he confidently said.

Arthur rolled his eyes. _Typical American. _"And what would happen as a result?"

He tilted his head. Uncertain, he asked "we'd go to war?"

"Are you saying that nuclear war is our only option?"

"It stopped WWII," he said triumphantly.

"Nuclear weapons started the Cold War."

He tilted his head. "Huh?"

"It was power struggle between the Soviets andAmericaduring the latter part of the twentieth century."

Alfred sighed. "How do you know all these things?"

He shrugged. "I'm passionate for history." _And I actually pay attention in class rather than doze off or dream about football_.

"So you want to be a history teacher?"

"An ambassador," he said confidently.

Alfred scratched his head. "What's that?"

"It's a representative of the country and visits other countries to discuss policies."

There was a short pause before he added "I want to be a football player."

"I would have never guessed," he muttered sarcastically.

"I can't do anything else…" Alfred started.

Arthur protested "that's not true!"

"Name one."

"I love you, and you're a great friend," he began making his eyebrows twitch.

He forced a smile, like he was hiding something. "Yeah…sure, whatever you say."

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><p>It was five minutes to six when Arthur slinked into a green booth. The restaurant was mostly empty except for a table near the counter with a woman and two children fighting with each other. "And what can I get for you?" Daisy asked with a smile. She placed two full cups of water on the table and winked.<p>

"Nothing yet," Arthur smiled and looked at his reflection in the cup of water.

"Ve~ buono [1]," she said with a sigh. "Katrina's out with Antonio and I've been told I'm not very good at making pizzas."

Arthur smiled slightly.

"I'd rather make pasta! Boat loads of pasta!"

He pushed a strand of his messy hair behind his ear. "Sounds cool," he lied.

She nodded. "Pizza is just so hard to make…"

He looked out the window, longing Alfred to come. "I've never made pizza before," he said trying to sound interested. Honestly, what was so great about pizza anyways? It was just bread and sauce with a sprinkle of cheese. Yeah, it was _good_, but not the best meal in the entire world.

Her brown eyes looked shocked. "You've never made pizza? But it's so yummy and tasty…" Her sentence was interrupted by the door rudely opening and closing. She was tall, about mid thirties with dark skin. She was wearing a yellow rain coat, although it wasn't raining, which probably meant she was visiting. "I've gotta get this customer. _Mi dispaice_ [2]." She scurried behind the counter and asked the woman for her order.

Arthur looked down at his phone to see a picture message alert blinking on his phone. He noticed the number had more digits than normal American phone number but flipped open his phone anyways. He scrolled down past the foreign characters to an odd picture. The lighting was a bit dim but he could see the shape of two bodies. Who and why was someone sending Arthur a picture like _this_? One was obviously a female with thick brown hair tied in two red bows. He stopped at the blonde male, knowing without a doubt who he was. His eyes filled with clear tears as he bolted out of the restaurant.

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>1. Translates to good<p>

2. Translates to sorry/I'm sorry

Author's notes: Hello there! Wow, this was a pretty short chapter! I'll just make up the lost words in this blurb-y thing. Do I update too much? Maybe I do...but if I didn't I would just be editing it for years and nothing would ever get done! BUH! So...what did you think about how he found out that Alfred was cheating on him? It was a bit subtle and too rapid but I think that's how life is. Anyways, I keep telling myself that Seychelles would seem like such a Mary-Sue, but I love making her into this evil-ish character. I hope I live up to your expectations next chapter during the confrontation! I don't know what I should do! And does Arthur sound like he's being forced to say "I love you" all the time? I think I'm going to go with him being forced to say it, for now. And isn't it kinda weird how they were lovers before friends? It is kinda weird. But I feel like there was just an instant spark between them. Also, once you're in the friends zone, there's no escaping. BTW I know no Italian so that was all my friend. I don't know if she used her notes from school or google. I hope it's write though! GET EXCITED FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER! IT'S GOING TO BE THRILLING! Ooh I wonder how it is going to unravel...**REMEMBER TO REVIEW!**


	11. Chapter 11

Hello! It's me again! I was going to upload this earlier but there was a bit of a problem...so yeah. Literally I wrote this in thirty minutes. I think I broke my writer's block! Are you ready for some angsty romance? If you're reading this, which everyone is just going to skip over anyways so why am I even writing this, I'd like to warn you that it is terribly written teenaged angsty love. I'd just like to question why I write here _and_ at the bottom? Hm...I guess I'll never know. This is like those terms of agreement sections that NOBODY WOULD READ! Haha that's not _completely _true. THANK YOU FOR ALL OF THE WONDERFUL REVIEWS! Ready to see what happens...? I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Some strong language

Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia!

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><p>"Artie, what's wrong?" Alfred asked after slamming the door to his sapphire blue convertible. He sprinted across the parking lot dodging multi-colored cars. He was wearing the leather bomber jacket over his football uniform that was still a bit damp from sweat.<p>

"Stop calling me that," Arthur snapped wiping his tears away with his sleeve.

Alfred looked almost shocked at Arthur's tone. With sad eyes he asked "why are you crying?" He dried Arthur's tears with his fingers.

"Just stay away from me," he warned backing away from Alfred.

He tilted his head slightly. "What's wrong with you?"

"Explain this to me," he shouted opening his flip phone to the text message he had recently received. He scrolled down to the picture and flailed his phone in Alfred's face.

Alfred winced. "I was drunk it's nothing. Now let's just go ea-"

"So am I just nothing in your life?" He clenched his fists making his knuckles turn white.

"Artie, you're everything to me."

"Bull shit," Arthur announced.

"Artie!"

"What everyone says about you is right!"

Alfred looked down at the stone paved sidewalk.

"You just play with everyone's feelings. I thought maybe you were different, but obviously not! For once in their lives, Scottie and Dylan were right about something!"

"Artie, please listen to me," he begged grabbing Arthur's hands.

"Why should I?" he replied coldly and released his hands from Alfred's.

"Because I know that you love me."

His thick eyebrow twitched. "I don't know what I feel anymore! Maybe I never actually loved you. Maybe I was just saying it because you did, and I felt bad…"

Alfred blinked rapidly. "Will you please just listen to me!"

Arthur pouted silently.

"I was drunk and she uh well…took advantage of me. The picture looks worse than it was. I swear I don't like her or anything."

"And why should I believe that your story is true?" he sneered.

Alfred bit his lip, attempting to stop himself from crying.

He looked into Alfred's blue eyes. "How can I forgive you?"

"You have to…" he began but was stopped by his tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I don't _have_ to do anything you say! How about we forget all about this and stay away from each other?"

"Artie," Alfred said watching Arthur sprint off in the distance.

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><p>"Alfred! It's about time you came home! You're just in time for dinner," Matthew said setting down four plates on the long dinning room table. The room had hints of burnt wood and ashes in the air, although the fireplace was no longer burning. Their father was reading the newspaper at the head of the table like usual.<p>

"Not hungry," he muttered and headed towards the stairs. He lazily dropped his books next to the grand piano in the center of the main room. _I just want my privacy_, he thought.

His father looked up from the newspaper. The front article read 'Robbery at High School.' "Not hungry? Alfred what's wrong?"

"I'm just not hungry," he repeated angrily. _Why can't I enjoy my privacy? _

His father's blue eyes began to worry. He folded the newspaper and neatly placed it beside his white plate. "What happened today?"

"Nothing," he groaned.

Matthew placed the fourth plate on the table and said with a smile "then come sit with us."

"I have uh…work to do," he scratched the back of his head.

Matthew stared into Alfred's deep eyes. Matthew knew everything about Alfred by his eyes. He could tell that Arthur knew about his "affair" with Michelle, and that he did not take it well. "We all know _that_'s a lie."

"What's a lie?" Mrs. Jones asked putting a plate of sautéed peas at the center of the long table from the kitchen. The room began to smell like popcorn due to the I-Cant-Believe-It's-Not-Butter melted onto the vegetables.

"It's nothing," Alfred murmured which really meant "It's nothing I want to talk about with you."

Mr. Jones asked "is it some girl?"

Alfred glared his don't-tell-them look to Matthew. "Yeah, actually it is." It wasn't a total lie, seeing as Michelle was the cause of his problems.

"Did you get her pregnant or something?"

"Dad," Alfred wined. "Why do you always assume the worst?"

Mr. Jones smiled and took a large spoonful on peas onto his plate. "What! It could happen."

Mrs. Jones rolled her eyes at her husband's comment. "Now tell us what _really _happened."

"Oh, uh, yeah, I, uh," he stammered and looked around to the main room. He noticed the yellow plastic bag was still neatly tied next to his backpack. "Dad I need to borrow your keys!"

"It is dinner time, whatever it is, it can wait until after," she explained harshly spooning out peas for herself.

"It can't."

His father nodded and fished in his pocket for his keys, as if he knew what Alfred meant. "Just tell me where you're going."

Mrs. Jones glared at him with light purple eyes.

He tossed the keys at Alfred who caught it in his right hand and stood up. His eyes stared at the yellow bag when he replied "I have to return something."

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><p>"Dinner's here," Scottie yelled from the kitchen. His voice echoed off of the broken tiles.<p>

Arthur groaned before lying A Tale of Two Cities on the coffee table next to empty cups of beer from the past Sunday's football game. Books always made him feel better. He removed his black, square rimmed reading glasses and placed them on top of the book. "What is it this time? A pathetic excuse of ground beef and chips?" he asked sliding into the empty chair. He preferred fine cuisine to the slop McDonalds served on their menu.

"Eat your burger and stop complaining," his father scolded noticing Arthur was grumpier than usual. Jack took a large bite of a triple quarter pounder with cheese.

Arthur sulked in his chair and began to cut his hamburger into bite size pieces. He didn't even like hamburgers.

"By the way, idiot, they're called _fries_ not chips," Dylan teased throwing one of his fries at Arthur and hitting him just below his green eyes.

"Whatever," he muttered reaching for the bottle of bourbon situated at the middle of the gray table. _Maybe bourbon would help me forget about Alfred…_

"You're inAmericanow, no beer for you," Scottie laughed snagging the bottle before Arthur could and poured the rest into his dirty cup.

"What about you? You're twenty…" _And still in high school_, he thought. Scottie was, err, left back three times for failing his classes and then getting caught smoking on school premises. Most of the time, he wouldn't even show up to class and would also refuse to take the summer school programs. At least Dylan passed high school, although he never pursued to go to college. It was true that the Kirklands couldn't afford most colleges, but there was always financial aid and community college.

"I'll be twenty one next year," he said taking a swig of bourbon. "What's it to ya anyways?"

Arthur rolled his green eyes. _You have until May until you're back in England away from them_, _all of them_, he told himself.

"You're seventeen and you don't have your license," Dylan taunted dipping two of his fries into something darker than ketchup.

"So what?" Arthur spat. If he hadn't been so sad, he would've slit their throats right then and there.

"That means you're still a child."

"I am not a child!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "You sure act like one," he noted.

Arthur opened his mouth to refute but was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing twice.

"I'll get it," Dylan yelled in a childish tone. He pushed out his chair and carelessly skipped towards the front door managing to knock down a couple of plastic plates.

Arthur heart began to beat faster as the front door creaked open. _Please don't let it be him_, he prayed.

"Hey is, uh, Artie here?" he could hear the voice ask from the kitchen.

Arthur's heart sank. _Really? _

"Art!" Dylan called without delay and returned to the kitchen. "Door's for you!"

Arthur sighed before forcing himself to stand and walk to the door. He scanned the figure at the front door with his emerald eyes. Tall, muscular and holding a bouquet of blue roses. Do blue roses even exist? He curled his lip and asked coldly "what do _you_ want?"

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>Author's Notes: Woah! Intense angst! Sorry about the cliffhanger again...but I had to. Before you even ask blue roses do exist! They are hard to find and most likely made by genetic mutations, but they are real! And the thing with the roses, well it turns out the national flowers for both America and England are roses. YES! Both are roses! Anyways, what do you think? When I first wrote this I made it that Arthur accepted his apology and then I was like...uh, no. What kinda drama is that? So I rewrote it like this! I know, I'm evil. But maybe it'll work out. Maybe...or maybe not until chapter 30. Mwahahahahaha! I don't want to spoil the next chapter so uh...yeah. I hope you enjoyed and <strong>REMEMBER TO REVIEW!<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

Welcome to chapter 12! Again this is most likely going to be skipped over again but I'm going to write random nonsense anyways. Half of the words come from here anyways so I don't see why you would skip it...This week was quite sucessful for me so I uploaded a lot of chapters! It will most likely go back to one or two updates a week. Sorry, stupid school! Anyways, this chapter was really fun to write, although the top part seems kinda rushed and short. The confrontation is a bit...well sloppy and awfully written. It's also quite short. I just can't write important scenes. Murr. I hope you like it though, and thank you for all the wonderful reviews!

Warnings: Mild language

Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia!

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><p>He curled his lip and asked coldly "what do <em>you<em> want?" He closed the front door behind him and joined Alfred on the front steps. The mid-October wind danced up his spine, even through his sweater and his peacoat. Yes, men wear peacoats.

"I want to apologize," he began holding out the flowers for Arthur. "And give you back your jacket."

Arthur's face turned bright red. He sniffed the roses, which reminded him of his garden inEngland. He could almost smell the rain on each petal and hear the sound of his mother's sweet voice calling him in for dinner.

"I'm sorry, for everything. Even if you never want to talk to me again…I just want you to know that I'm sorry." He began to walk down the steps back to his car before adding "oh and I'll always love you. No matter what…"

Arthur looked into his blue eyes and bit his lip. _Why am I so quick to forgive_, he asked himself. He could feel his face becoming drenched in warm tears. He dropped the items at his feet and skipped down the steps to hug Alfred from the back. "I love you too," he managed to say through his tears.

Alfred turned around and smiled. He swung his arms around him and cradled Arthur's head on his chest. "There's a place I want to show you," he began and tugged Arthur towards his car.

Arthur wiped his tears away with his sweater. "Huh? What is it?"

He winked. "It's a secret." He slammed the cerulean car door closed behind him while adding "now close your eyes."

Arthur closed his bloodshot eyes and announced "I can't see why you can't bloody tell me where you're taking me!"

"It's only, like, two minutes from this part of Hetalia, bro. My bro and I used to go here when we were little with our Dad, but by the time I was eight, we stopped. I come here, alone, sometimes. Usually during the summer. You're going to be the first person who's not in my family to see this," he said radiantly. Arthur could feel the wind brushing his hair back as Alfred slammed on the gas pedal.

There was an instant of silence. "One question…where did you find blue roses?"

Alfred shrugged. "Mattie makes 'em. He's real science-y and stuff. He wants to go to Antarctica, or is itAlaska, I dunno some place real cold to study polar bears. It's something to do with making flowers have sex and changing molecular nonsense. Ya know. Not really my thing."

Arthur nodded. He asked himself _who's Mattie again?_ _Which one of those obnoxious students was Mattie? _"One more question…why me?"

Alfred tilted his head and shrugged. "'Cause I love you."

"I mean _why_ do you love me, you git!"

He shrugged as the car slowed into a stop. "Dunno. There's just something different about you. Something I can't really explain." There was a short, uncomfortable pause before he added "curiously, what do people say about me?"

Arthur coughed. "Nothing really," he lied as Alfred slammed his foot on the gas pedal once more. "Just about how you've dated a lot of girls," he screamed over the traffic and wind. There was another slight pause before he asked "how many girls have you dated?"

He hesitated to answer. "Let's just say a lot. What about you?"

Arthur's bottom lip was now bleeding. "I went to an all male prep school," he noted.

"So you did go to Hogwarts!"

"I'm not a wizard," he shouted.

"Then…I don't get it."

"You bloody git! There were no girls at the school!"

"I still don't get it."

Arthur exhaled loudly. "Git," he grumbled.

"Wait, so everyone was…" he let the sentence trail off pulling the car into a parking space.

"No shit, _Sherlock_," he pouted a bit irritated. "Can I open my eyes yet?"

"Of course not," he exclaimed forcing his stick shift into park. He slammed the door behind him and went around to open Arthur's. "Don't you trust me?"

"No," he muttered.

Alfred smiled, although he was unsure if he heard his comment or not, and tugged on Arthur's scrawny arm across a parking lot for no more than thirty seconds. They paused, then he heard the sound of something jingling, probably keys, and then Arthur was being dragged again inside a building. Even through his closed eyes, Arthur could tell the lights were turned on. He could tell it was someplace that gets abandoned at night, seeing as their uneven footsteps echoed through a hallway.

"Do you have to run?" Arthur huffed practically tripping with each step.

Alfred laughed. "It's down this hallway and just three flights of stairs."

He gulped. _Stairs? Three stories? _Arthur was inexplicably, terribly afraid of heights. Shakily he asked "w-where in the bloody world are you taking me?"

"Stop asking me. I'm not going to tell you! Are your eyes still closed?" Arthur nodded as he felt his body being dragged up one…two…forty one steps. The two men paused at the top of the steps as he heard the sound of keys once more. Arthur could feel the door swinging open as icy wind wiped his face. Alfred closed the door behind him and walked the Brit out a couple of feet. "Okay…open!"

Arthur's green eyes shot open to see thousands of stars dotting the violet sky. "Where the hell are we?"

"On the roof of my dad's school," he said smiling and sitting down at the center of the roof. He motioned for Arthur to join him.

Arthur sat beside him gaped at the view. He doubted ever realizing there were _that _many visible stars in the sky.

"Nice, huh?"

Arthur nodded, still in utter disbelief. "I never knew there were _that_ many bloody stars!"

"Either did I," he admitted scratching the back of his head. Alfred pulled Arthur closer, draping his bomber jacket on Arthur's shoulder. "I feel like I could just reach out my hand, and grab one."

Arthur giggled at the impossibility.

"Eh? What's so funny?"

He shook his head and wrapped himself in the jacket. "Nothing!" There was a small stillness before he asked "do you know any of the constellations?"

"Uh, no," the American confessed sheepishly.

"I don't either," he said with a crooked smile.

"Then I guess we'll just have to make some up," he announced pointing up to the sky and yelling "that one kinda looks like a bear!" The wind ruffled his dark blonde hair, slightly.

"A bear? That's Ursa Major, the protector."

"I thought you said you didn't know the constellations!"

"I don't know _where_ they are, but I know _what_ they are. Like I know the big dipper is a spoon shape, and the little dipper is like the big dipper but smaller, and so on!"

"Oh," he said and stood up, making the leather jacket fall to his feet, and pointed to the side of the building. "I bet there's a better view of the stars near the edge of the roof!"

Arthur's green eyes shot open. _Don't tell him about your fear,_ he repeated to himself. "I think it's lovely here," he said making his voice crack ever so slightly.

"Artie," Alfred whined. The wind began to pick up, making Alfred's hair sway. "What's wrong with you all of a sudden!"

_Don't tell him. Don't tell him. Don't tell him. _"I'm afraid of heights," he blurted angrily.

Alfred's eyes sagged as he rushed back over to him. He threw his arms around Arthur. "I'm sorry!"

"Okay! Just let go of me, you bloody git!"

Alfred released his arms and situated himself next to Arthur once more. He wrapped the bomber jacket around both their shoulders like a blanket. "You can trust me! Nothing bad is going to happen to you! Not while _I'm _around! I'm the hero, so I'm here to protect you!"

Arthur smiled and leaned his head on Alfred's shoulder and yawned "we should do this again."

"Is that a request for another date?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and murmured sleepily "only if you promise me three things."

"Sure! Name 'em!"

"One, you'll never get drunk again. Two, you'll never cheat on me. And three, you'll always protect me."

"I promise," he said and kissed Arthur's forehead, but he could've been dreaming.

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>Author's Notes: HI! Okay so I hope you liked the cornycheesy chapter I just mustered...somehow. Isn't it soooo corny. Teehee, I don't know, corny is always easy to write! I have no idea where the story is going to go now (except for the ending...which won't be for a while) but still! Anyways, I think the next chapter is going to be a bit calmer, or not. I don't know. Don't take my word on it! Ugh! I'm lazy and won't have an update until the middle of the upcoming week, maybe later. Depends on my workload...Ugh. I _will_ finish this story though, I will! I promise. I really hoped you liked it! **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	13. Chapter 13

Konnichiwa (こんにちは)! I just kinda wanted to say hello in a weird manner...Okay so I haven't got time to update (sadly) because of all my work so it'll most likely be once a week from now one. Maybe even twice, if your lucky! Anyways this was a pretty long update! It was almost 2,000 words before the nonsense that I write! That's long for my chapters, which is quite pathetic! THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS AND HITS! THANK YOU SO MUCH! I hope you like this chapter!

Warnings: Strong language and abuse :'( sorry

Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia!

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><p>"Artie?" Alfred asked softly and shook his body.<p>

"Hmm…?" Arthur yawned as his eyes shot open instantly. The last thing he could remember was falling asleep on Alfred's shoulder back on the roof. Even now, he was still staring at the stars, only now he was laid flat along the backseat of Alfred's convertible.

"Artie are awake?"

"What? Where are we? What time is it?" he asked groggily, sitting himself up. _And how did I get here?_

"I don't know, late. Really late! My parents are gonna kill me, and I bet your par-dad will. We're at your house."

He let out a cool breath of air and opened the back door. He scratched the back of his blonde head. "Thanks for tonight…and the flowers."

The American threw his arms around Arthur and squeezed his body against his own. It almost didn't feel real. His lips wrapped around syllables although his words were muted by wind picking up the lids of garbage cans. He pecked his cheek and said more words, and then untied his arms and jumped into his convertible.

"Goodnight, my love," Arthur said half asleep watching the car make a right off of Alice Court and was no longer in his sight.

Arthur dragged himself up the slanted steps. Vines were growing in between the broken pavement. He wasn't surprised when he turned the unlocked brass knob to his front door. The door creaked a little when he closed it, but he had hoped not to wake any one.

"Arthur?" A harsh voice slurred over the television broadcast.

Arthur stood silently, holding his breath, hoping his father would fall asleep shortly. Was his father genuinely worried?

"Arthur! Get your ass in here!"

He cringed before walking into the main room. He dropped his flowers onto the counter. The television was playing a re-run of some football game from Sunday and the coffee table had empty beer bottles haphazardly aligned next to each other. "Yes?"

"Is _that_ anyway to talk to your father?" Jack exclaimed obviously drunk.

Arthur stood still in the darkness. Not even the newly waxing moon reflected through the blinds shading the windows. He knew what was going to come next.

"Well…?"

He stood helplessly, watching his father wobble to stand up from the couch in the dark. The sound of a bottle shattering to the floor echoed through the quiet house.

"You ungrateful brat!" he yelled smacking his hand across Arthur's cheek.

Arthur fell to the floor and stared up at his father with pleading, green eyes. _Stop_, he begged silently. His face had already begun to swell as well as his knees, which were lying on broken glass.

"Now I have to work three jobs just to keep _you_ alive," he spat and kicked him in the stomach, right below his ribs. "What for?" he laughed to himself. The smell of alcohol lingered in the air, making Arthur feel nauseous. "You'll just turn out like your mother: worthless."

Although Jack was drunk, Arthur knew that he meant the words he was saying. Drunken words speak sober thoughts.

It took him another slap before his father gave up on the subject and lied back on the couch. He took an imaginary sip from an empty bottle of beer. The last words he could hear, before Arthur fell into unconsciousness was "worthless little shit."

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><p>"I'm so-" Arthur began, but paused seeing as his class was missing his teacher. It wasn't typical for Arthur to be late to class, let alone school altogether. He slid into his seat next to Lili and collapsed himself on his desk. Although he was a senior, he had never taken American history inEngland, hence why he was in Lili's class.<p>

Lili's face held concern when she asked "what's wrong?"

_Let's see. My father beat me last night until I became unconscious. My stomach, cheek and the back of my head are bruised. Not to mention having to walk all the way to school after missing my bus. _"Nothing's wrong," he lied unconvincingly.

She pointed to his bruised cheek.

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Oh yeah, _that_," he said with a chuckle. "I'm just clumsy. Fell down the steps one too many times, nothing to worry about," he lied.

Lili reached into her small, blue and red purse. "Here, use this!" She tossed a small bottle at Arthur.

He raised an eyebrow. "What is this?"

She giggled innocently. "Never seen cover-up before? I don't know if it's your skin tone but…" her sentence trailed off into a whisper making her blush, and retreat into her textbook.

"Thanks," Arthur began examining the small make up bottle filled with nude colored liquid. He uncapped the black bottle and poured a small amount onto his hands. He began to rub the liquid cover-up onto his cheek. "Better?" he asked tossing the tiny bottle back over.

Lili nodded tucking the bottle of makeup back into her bag. She winked slightly and exclaimed "perfect."

Arthur collapsed his head onto the desk and sighed.

"Must've been quite a fall," she noted awkwardly trying to keep the conversation from dying out.

"Mhm. Sure," he mumbled into his desk wanting to be left alone. He felt uncomfortable when others interfered with his person live.

"Please, tell me what's bothering you," she said sympathetically.

He looked at the drawings on his desk. There were two hearts drawn in black ink and four faded numbers that probably had no real significance. "I just fell down the steps last night," he gritted through his teeth and wished his teacher would come through the heavy door and break their conversation.

"There's something more…something you're not telling me. Something emotional."

_"_Nope, just fell down the steps."

She sighed and gripped his shoulder. She wasn't convinced at all, but decided to drop the topic, seeing he refused to tell her anything else. "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."

He forced a smile. "Great." _Another person to worry about me. _

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><p>Arthur knelt beside his locker and twisted the small numbers on his lock. He clutched his stomach as he opened his rustic locker. He grabbed two notebooks and a binder before heading towards the cafeteria. Maybe he could have just enough left over money for an apple or a granola bar. He forced his body to stand woozily. His knees felt weak, and his head was still throbbing while he walked towards the cafeteria. He opened one of the double doors into the large lunchroom. At his old school, he sat alone in a corner at lunch, if he was lucky to find a seat. Now he had Alfred obnoxiously waving him over from a table towards the middle of the cafeteria. His table had five other students in which he couldn't match the faces to their names, except for Michelle who happened to be leaning her head upon Alfred's shoulder. He sighed before forcing himself to walk over.<p>

"Hey Artie, didn't know you had lunch this period! Come sit!" Alfred exclaimed pulling an empty red chair from an adjacent table next to his chair. He brushed Michelle off of his broad shoulder.

He mumbled "thanks" before sitting down on the other side of Alfred. There went his chance of having a peaceful day.

"_Bojour mon ami _[1]," a student with blonde luxurious hair said grabbing Arthur's scrawny arm and kissed it twice.

He pulled his arm away in disgust. "What did you just say?"

"Ignore Francis," Michelle said rolling her eyes. "Anyways, I'm Michelle! It's a pleasure!" Although she was quite perky, she had a different aura than Lili. There was something almost fake about Michelle…

"How could 'e ignore someone as gorgeous as _moi_?" He was quite attractive, although he could have been mistaken as a feminine if he took the time to shave.

"Dude, leave Artie alone, he looks pretty sick," Alfred said noticing Arthur was clutching his stomach again.

"I'm not sick! I just need some food," he lied.

"Here have mine! You've probably never tasted such fine cuisine," Francis said pushing grilled fish and sliced potatoes towards Arthur.

"Your French food tastes like shit! Prussian food is _way_ more awesome, like me!" the albino student exclaimed. Wait_, did he just say Prussian? I thought Prussia was dissolved in the 20th century…_

"Bruder, it isGermanynow!" a harsh German voice explained.

"Who cares? Everyone knows hamburgers are the best food!" Alfred exclaimed taking a large bite, similar to Arthur's father, of his hamburger.

Michelle rolled her eyes and coiled a finger around her one of her red bows. "I don't even know why your friends with him."

"It's complicated," Arthur mumbled clutching his stomach again. Out of all of the places he was hurt; his lower chest had to be the one that hurt the most.

"It's not like _he's_ the idiot that _dating_ him!" the self-proclaimed Prussian announced making Arthur shift uncomfortably in his chair. He could've have been more wrong.

She narrowed her eyes. "At least I'm not trying to ruin a perfect relationship!"

"Elizaveta deserves better than that Austrian pussy."

His brother rolled his icy blue eyes. "Gil, calm down…"

Gilbert let out a cool breath of air and muttered "well…she does."

"And you think _you're_ any better, _mon ami_?" Michelle threw her head back and laughed abhorrently.

"I think I'd better be going," Arthur began looking at the clock. 12:00 sharp meant that half the period remained but maybe it was better that he used his time to study. He wrapped his books around his malnourished arms.

"Already? But there's still half of the period left!" Alfred whined.

He pulled out his chair and stood up. "Yeah, I've got some work to do…" He watched Michelle casually lean her head back of Alfred's shoulder.

"Then let me at least give you a goodbye kiss!" Francis exclaimed pecking him on the cheek.

Arthur pulled away in disgust and wiped his cheek with his shirt. "You're a disgusting frog!"

"What's on your cheek?" Alfred asked noticing Arthur's bruise revealed itself.

"I'm doing fine," he lied losing his balance and falling to his knees.

He could feel his body being pulled into Alfred's strong embrace and hauled a couple of hallways before he was dropped into a chair. He whispered softly in his ear "I want to know what _really_ happened."

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>[1] Translates into hello my friend<p>

Author's Notes: How did you like it? Awww I feel bad for Arthur. I didn't want to write it...but I did cause I'm evil! Was it intense enough? Or too angsty? Murr. I'm cheesy and corny and I'm proud! I'm sorry to inform you that I won't be updating as frequently as I hope and planned (and it'll most likely be on weekends) but now you don't have to be suprised or even miss a chapter/update. Okay so I decided that classical music helps stimulate my mind, so maybe if I play lots of classical music I'll be a better writer. I don't know. I think I'm like obsessed with classical music, or I just miss my camp...(why can't it be summer already?). There's going to be _way _to many chapters...Why am I writing such random things? I don't even think it's halfway over. Buhhhhh! Whatever, **REMEMBER TO REVIEW!** Anyways get excited for next chapter! It might be quote-un-quote thrilling or maybe not. We'll see...


	14. Chapter 14

Hello again! Even though I _said_ I wouldn't update, I felt like I _had _to. I don't know why...sorry. Anyways next update will be at the end of this week (most likely Saturday or Sunday) but I _will_ update! I really want to finish this story...I don't even know why. Okay, anyways THANK YOU FOR ALL THE WONDERFUL REVIEWS! THEY ARE ALL GREATLY APPRECIATED! I can't believe I had _seven_. In. One. Chapter. SEVEN! YES SEVEN! That doesn't sound like much but SEVEN! ACK! Not to mention that this chapter is quite long, but not the longest. Again, thank you all, and I hope you enjoy...

Warnings: Strong language and _more _abuse

Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia!

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><p>Arthur opened his green eyes to a small waiting room. The room was deserted except for three secretaries typing on their computers. There were posters of the body plastered on the cream walls about how proper nutrition and exercise are crucial. He sighed before saying "I fell down the steps."<p>

"Bull shit!" One of the secretaries gave him a dirty look.

"Al, watch your language," a second Alfred whispered. The two looked almost identical except that his hair was wavier and had an embarrassing curl sticking out instead of an obnoxious cowlick like Alfred. _Wait, since when were there two Alfreds? I must've taken quite a fall…_

He clutched his throbbing forehead and said stubbornly "how would you have known? It was dark! And I'm quite clumsy." He knew he shouldn't have been in the nurse's office, especially if Alfred and his twin were there. There'd just be more questioning then he ever needed. He began to stand up once more, but Alfred pulled him back into his uncomfortable chair.

"Look, all I know is something happened to you within the twelve hours since I saw you. As your uh…boyfriend, I think I have the right to know." Alfred squeezed his hand.

Arthur sighed. "I kinda got beat up last night…" he paused before continuing "I told everyone I fell down the stairs 'cause I don't really want anyone to be wasting their time worrying about me."

"Who in the right mind did this to you? 'Cause I swear…I will personally attack 'em!"

"Al, stop soliciting information from him! It was obvious traumatic for him," the other Alfred said and slapped his arm.

"Ouch! Mattie that hurt!" he whined rubbing his upper arm.

Matthew turned back to Arthur and sympathetically said "we've all been through rough patches in our lives."

"Mr. Kirkland?" one of the secretaries asked politely. "Dr. Wang will be seeing you now."

Arthur nodded courteously as Alfred wrapped his arms around him keeping Arthur from toppling over as he walked. "I'll protect you," he whispered. "I'm a hero, after all."

Arthur smiled. _Maybe he should tell him about his father…_

Matthew held the door open for the two as they scrambled to get into the small room. The doctor motioned for Alfred to place Arthur in a chair. "Hello, what brings you here today?" Dr. Wang asked in a thick Chinese accent. He was probably of some relation to Mr. Wang seeing as they had the same accent and last name, although his hair hung above his shoulders instead of tied up like Mr. Wang's.

"Just got some bruises," he lied.

"Don't listen to him, it's worse than that! He can barely even walk!"

Arthur scowled at his comment.

"Now, where does it hurt the most?" Dr. Wang asked calmly.

Arthur forced himself to stand and lifted his shirt slightly revealing a large red bruise.

"How did you get this?" his brown eyes held concern.

His green eyes glared at Alfred. "I fell down the stairs."

"I see…" he said skeptical but continued with his analysis "the bruise seems to be close to your ribs. Do you mind removing your shirt?"

Arthur sighed before removing his green sweater vest, forgetting Alfred and Matthew were still watching him.

Dr. Wang's eyes held concern. "Are you, how can I put this nicely, anorexic?"

His green eyes widened. "Of course not!" He pulled his shirt back over his head quite embarrassed.

He nodded unconvinced. "Well, it's a very common disorder among teens your age. You seem malnourished. Should I contact your guardians about this?"

"First I'm not anorexic. And second I don't want you to call my dad. We're just going through a family crisis; let's just leave it with that."

Dr. Wang nodded professionally and tapped a pen on his clipboard. "I suggest you stay here until the end of school and rest. After that I advise you rest ice on the spots that hurt. Okay?"

"But I can't miss half a day of school! It's bad enough-"

"Doctor's orders," he said making Arthur pout. Arthur thought it undignified to be missing class, let alone _sleep_, for some bruises. "I'll sign you out of all your classes and talk to your teachers for you, okay? But I really need you to rest. Ya know, when I tell most kids that they aren't too quick to refuse." He went over to a medicine cabinet and scanned his eyes along the shelves of anything from anti-depressants to xanax. Dr. Wang placed two white 35mg pills in Arthur's cupped hands. "This should take away the pain as well as diminish swelling, although it puts you to sleep within minutes. I would advise lying down on the bed instead. You two are welcome to stay as long as you'd like." Dr. Wang smiled and closed the door behind him, leaving the three alone in the small room.

"Should I help you?" Alfred asked noticing Arthur struggling to stand up.

"I'm not a bloody child!" the Brit announced dragging his body across the room and collapsing himself on the bed. He took the two pills in his hands and swallowed them without any water. Almost instantly he felt woozy and began to lie down.

"You sure act like one," the American noted.

Arthur said stubbornly "I do not!"

"Do too!"

"Will you stop bickering?" Matthew shouted.

Arthur's mind began to drift into a state between conscious dreaming and reality. He closed his heavy eyelids and images began to flash across his mind. Within two seconds, he knew they weren't images rather than memories of last night. He shot his eyes open not wanting to revisit last night.

"What's wrong? You seemed so peaceful for a minute!" Alfred began clinging to his side.

He murmured "it's nothing," and closed his eyes once more. The memories flashed back again. Now there was the smell of alcohol filling the room and heard the faint sound of the word 'worthless' being repeated over and over. "Alfred, do you think I'm, um, worthless?"

"What made you think that?"

"The effects of the medicine," Matthew answered, "they are triggering his subconscious."

Alfred looked at him blankly.

"He's re-experiencing something traumatizing to him."

"Alfred, please answer me," he gaped for air not wanting to relive his memories.

"Of course I don't think you're worthless, you're my whole world," he said squeezing Arthur's hand. Arthur forced a smile before plummeting into his memories.

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><p><em>Arthur was standing in the middle of a large hallway. The atmosphere was eerily familiar. It was quite dark outside due to the torrential rainfall. The air conditioner blasted cold air throughout the hallway, which obviously meant it was summer. The only sound came from the outside cars skating across the wet pavement. <em>

_"Where am I?" he asked nobody as he began to descend down the hallway. He could not recognize the house he was forced to explore. At the end of the hallway he stopped to the sound of a door creaking open. There he saw a young child, no older than five, with bloodshot green eyes watching from the doorway. The young child did not seem to notice Arthur as his eyes were fixed on something coming from the room across from the doorway. _

_"It has to be a mistake," a harsh male's voice yelled in the silent house. His voice made the child wince, although he remained still and hugged his stuffed animal rabbit tighter. _

_"There can't be a mistake, there are no mistakes when it comes to these things," a calmer woman's voice explained. Arthur held his breath from around the corner of the hallway. _

_"We can't even fucking handle four! What ever made you believe we could handle five!" The sound of an empty bottle being placed on a coffee table echoed through the house. _

_"I don't know," the woman cried through her tears. _

_"And when were you going to tell me about this! How long have you known?" _

_Her voice was muffled when she replied "t-three months." _

_"How long were you going to keep it a secret? This is the second time!"_

_"I know," she said softly._

_The young boy winced and shielded his face with his plush toy at the sound of something dense hitting the ground along with shattered glass. Arthur's seen this all before. This wasn't a dream nor a nightmare but rather a memory. A painful memory. _

_"You _knew_ and still didn't tell me!" The sound of glass smashing echoed again. "Worthless," the man muttered._

_Arthur peered into the main room and the scene froze. Lying on the floor was his blonde mother crying at her knees, surrounded by shards of glass. Her entire right cheek was bleeding as well as entirely scratched. The red haired man, who was his father, was paused in mid air from slapping the woman's face again. He turned behind him to see the young lad had retreated back into his room. Arthur pushed his door open and cradled his younger self in his arms. The sounds of broken glass and yelling continued as Arthur embraced the child closer. He whispered quiet, reassuring words into his ears before the scene turned black. _

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><p>"Alfred!" he exclaimed through short gasps of air after his emerald eyes shot open.<p>

"Eh, you're awake," Matthew said peering over the top of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

His breathing slowed as he asked shakily "w-what time is it?"

Matthew closed his book in his lap and glanced at the clock. With a smile he answered "roughly four thirty."

"Four thirty!" It seemed as if only ten, at most fifteen, minutes have past. There was no possible explanation for the passing of four and a half hours. He rubbed his temples and sighed.

"You were breathing heavily…and we didn't want to wake you," he admitted furrowing his thin eyebrows.

"Happens all the time," the Brit said sitting up on the side of the bed.

Matthew sighed. "Sure, nightmares are quite common, but the effects of the medicine did not give you nightmares."

"W-what are you talking about?" he said shakily.

"It was a memory," he said bluntly. "It's not uncommon after taking strong medicine."

Arthur gawked in amazement.

"Sorry, I don't mean to pry onto your personal life; I know I wouldn't want that to happen to me…" the rest of his sentence was hard to hear on account of the medicine. The room became eerily silent before Matthew said with a wink "maybe if we're lucky, we can catch the football team practicing."

Arthur nodded, forcing himself to stand up by himself. Matthew grabbed four icepacks before assisting him walk out of the nurse's office. Matthew was much different than his older brother, as he was much quieter and intelligence, which Arthur found more dignifying than Alfred's rowdy behavior. But there was something off about Matthew. What Arthur couldn't understand was why Matthew had volunteered his time, as well as how he knew about the effects of the medicine on his subconscious.

Arthur scoffed off the idea after feeling the fresh October air on his arms. Fall was always his favorite season. Scratch that, second favorite, after spring of course. But there was something about harvesting and the autumn hues that made him feel a sense of acceptance and warmth that spring could not deliver. In the distance, he could see the football team already lining up on the field along side the cheerleaders who were attempting to form a small human pyramid. Arthur had only been to the football field once, seeing as football was rubbish to him and American proclaimed "soccer" is his only athletic passion.

"Where do you want to sit?" he asked pointing to the almost empty bleachers.

Arthur shrugged. "Anywhere would be good."

Matthew situated Arthur onto one of the benches in the third row. He placed one of the icepacks on the crown of Arthur's head, and placed the other in his right hand. "Is this good?"

Arthur nodded. He groaned upon placing the icepacks on his bruises. He looked out onto the field still confused. _How do you play this game again_? Instead he asked uncomfortably "uh, which one's Alfred again?"

"The quarterback, number 50," he answered pointing to the student with a fifty plastered on the back of his blue and red jersey.

"It's bloody hard to tell when they're wearing helmets," he acknowledged. His eyes became fixed upon Alfred who was now sprinting over to the sidelines for a bottle of water. He removed his helmet and gazed out upon the bleachers with a sincere smile. He began to wave eagerly at Arthur who couldn't resist but to wave back.

"You know, you've really sparked a change in him."

"W-what!" Arthur blushed and furrowed his bushy eyebrow.

"He doesn't steal twelve of my genetically engineered blue roses for just anyone, eh?"

His face turned a shade of bright red. "You know about that?"

Matthew smiled slyly. "He's a lot happier than before, not to say that he wasn't _entirely_ happy before…but there's definitely something much _different_ about him. I wouldn't say happier is the term, seeing as he's always smiling. Maybe…content." He paused watching Michelle peck him on the cheek, and ruffle his hair with her fingers then placed his helmet back on his head. Arthur frowned and clutched his knees to his chest making him quietly cringe in pain. "What I'm trying to say is that no matter what he tries to perceive to others, his heart is strong enough to lead him right."

"Sure," he grunted not quite convinced. _Alfred wouldn't lie to me,_ he assured himself. _He wouldn't lie to me…right?_

__To Be Continued...__

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><p>Author's notes: Look it's not a cliffhanger (for once). Haha but now I'm stuck for ideas for next chapter, awwww. What did you think? Artie's got some traumatic past...I feel so bad I just want to hug him! And Matthew...ooh. How the hell does he know all these things? And why is Alfred so oblivious to everything, if I knew him irl I'd smack him across the face, not kidding. In case I haven't said it enough, thank you for all the reviews! They are greatly appreciated. <strong>PLEASE CONTINUE TO REVIEW!<strong> Okay, so next chapter will not be _as _intense, although this doesn't qualify as intense at all, but it might answer a few questions so get ready...


	15. Chapter 15

Salutations my dear readers! Okay so after next week (because I have to stay after still 10 o clock every night) I will have updates most likely Wednesday and then either Saturday or Sunday (more likely Sunday) so mark it! This chapter was a bit hard to write, because it's not quite action-y and not quite filler fluffy boy love. I hope you weren't expecting some action because it's more or less not going to reaccur until later chapters, even though I doubt that it was how you say "thrilling" or whatnot. Anyways, I have work I need to do, so I'll leave it with that! THANK YOU FOR ALL THE GREAT REVIEWS! I appreciate all of you, and especially the readers and reviewers! Hope you enjoy this chapter...

Warnings: Strong language.

Disclaimer: (insert witty pun here about how I don't own hetalia)

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><p>Arthur sighed at the top of the broken steps. He contemplated sleeping under the stars tonight. Anything was better than home at this moment. Even the coldNew YorkOctober nights were more welcoming. He wished he could be safe in Alfred's arms, but Alfred claimed he and Matthew had to work before driving off, leaving Arthur to face the beast himself.<p>

"I've got it!" Arthur heard Dylan chirped echoing the light ringing of the doorbell. Within seconds, the door creaked open and his expression faded. "You look like shit, what happened?"

"None of your business, asshole, now let me in!" he demanded pushing aside his brother and heading straight for his room. His sanctuary. _Maybe nobody would notice me,_ he told himself. _It's not like anyone cares anyways…_

"Arthur is that you?" his father had asked from the kitchen.

"Bloody," he muttered ignoring his father before slamming his door closed behind him and collapsed onto his squeaky mattress, stuffing his face into his white pillow. Within seconds, the door was open again with Dylan leaning against the doorframe. He didn't bother turning on the light. "I can hear you! Get out!"

"Okay Art, what happened?" A pair of footsteps joined him in the doorway.

"Nothing," he muttered into his pillow. It still smelled like his old home. "Now can't you all leave?"

"We _are _your brothers after all…" Scottie began. _I wish you weren't_.

He muttered "leave!" He pulled his emerald green covers over his head.

"Does this have anything to do with that Alfred kid?" Scottie asked. _Why is that the first person he assumes?_

"I told you he was trou-" Dylan said raking his fingers through his wavy light red  
>hair.<p>

"Get out!" he shouted on impulse. _Why does everyone have to assume he's a bad kid? He's really not that bad!_

"I knew it, I knew you should've have gotten your hopes up!" Scottie smirked.

"It wasn't Alfred!"

Scottie's green eyes shot open. "D-don't tell me…it's…ya know…" his throat closed, unable to say the inevitable.

Arthur remained silent, neither wanting to admit the truth either.

"So…what are you going to do about it?"

"Wait, what the fuck are you talking about! He didn't even say anything!" Dylan shouted utterly confused. Dylan was always quite ditzy but nobody ever expected for him to forget something so tragic. No one could.

Scottie shook his head at him. It was obvious that Dylan was a bit young and a light sleeper to remember what had happened between their mother and father.

Arthur ripped the covers from his body and sat up. He wiped his damp cheeks with the sleeve of his green sweater vest. Had he been crying? He couldn't even realize anymore. For some reason, he always felt like he was crying about something. He asked "I don't know! What should I do?"

"Obviously confront him!" Scottie said putting his hand on Arthur's shoulder. _Typical Scottie,_ he thought.

"Easier said than done!" He placed his chin into his cupped hands.

Scottie sighed. "Well…you can't just let him get away with it…"

"It's not like I _want_ to, but I _have _to." He let out a small sigh before adding "I'll just make something up…"

"Make up what!" Dylan asked frustrated.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Scottie hissed.

He darted his green eyes to the corner of the room and shrugged. "Maybe…"

"Leave!" he ordered.

Dylan curled his lip but agreed and slammed the door behind him, abruptly. "Good riddance," Scottie announced walking over to the door. "Coming?" he asked.

"No," Arthur answered coldly.

Scottie shrugged. "I ain't gonna force you out, but you'll have to come out sooner or later." With those words, the door slammed shut.

As much as he hated to admit it, Scottie was right. There wasn't any possible way he could avoid his father forever, as much as he wanted to. Within five minutes, he wiped his tears away and crept out of his bedroom. "Woah, what happened?" his father asked when he entered the kitchen.

Tears welled up in his eyes. He knew he shouldn't have left his room. "Yeah, some fight," he managed to say holding back his tears. He pulled out the empty chair and sat beside Scottie. He reached for the unopened bottle of beer that Scottie ccoincidently left out of the dirt layered table.

"You've obviously proven yourself a man, instead of a pussy. I thought you'd be all weak and shit like your mother," Jack congratulated him with a pat on the back.

Arthur exhaled loudly drinking the entire bottle in just one swig.

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><p>"Dude, how do you get here so fast?" Alfred asked dropping his duffle bag beside a small, old desk. The room was completely empty and silent, which were some of the reasons Arthur was always early.<p>

Arthur closed his American History textbook and peaked out from his black rimmed reading glasses. He shrugged. "I don't know."

"How are your bruises?"

He muttered "I guess they're healing." It wasn't a complete lie. He wasn't able to get much sleep last night though, but he was able to walk better and didn't need to constantly ice the bruises.

"You know what it needs? A kiss!" he exclaimed leaning in and kissing Arthur's cheek.

He blushed.

Alfred's face suddenly beamed. "Oh yeah, you're not gonna believe this but guess what!"

He shrugged. "I give up, love."

Alfred frowned. "The whole point it to guess!"

"Well…you said yourself, I'm not going to believe it," he said in a very matter-of-fact tone. He packed his book away in his brown leather bag.

"Good point. Anyways, Mattie helped me study American politics last night! Isn't that totally cool!"

"I guess…although you _do_ live in America, so you _should_ already know those things," he pointed out.

Alfred pouted. "Well now I do."

The corners of Arthur's mouth turned upward. "Good, now we could _actually_ debate today," he chuckled.

"Oh hey, Arthur and, uh, hello Alfred," Lili said softly. Neither of them noticed her walk in until she took the seat on the opposite side of Arthur.

"Nice to meet ya, dude!" Alfred announced holding out his hand for her to shake it. His obnoxious voice echoed in the empty classroom, if it even qualifies as a classroom not a storage room with a couple of desks.

She hesitated before shaking his hand. "What country do you have?" she asked obviously uncomfortable.

"The best country, of course!" he said sanctimoniously.

She sighed and ignored his comment and asked Arthur "how are you doing? You weren't here at model UN yesterday so I assumed you were um…" her sentence trailed off into muted words.

Arthur forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm doing fine."

"Yeah, the Doc gave him some really strong medicine and he was knocked out for, like, the whole day!" he exclaimed, obviously not picking up the subtle hints to leave the conversation.

"Sounds pretty serious."

"It was," he answered for Arthur.

Arthur shot a glare towards Alfred. He had no right to be answering for him. It's not like he was invisible or anything. "Alfred's exaggerating," he lied.

She did not look quite surprised when she answered "oh." Two other girls came into the model UN classroom laughing and sat in the back corner. One was a nice Belgian girl named Isabella who was in Arthur's calculus class. The other was a petite junior named Mei from Vietnam.

"Oh before I forget…" he started. He dipped his hands into his jacket's pockets and took out a strip of paper. He placed the white strip on Arthur's desk. "It's for you…" He turned towards Lili and said awkwardly "I would've got one for you but…"

Arthur gazed at the strip of paper quite confused. It was obviously a ticket, but not for a movie, for an unnamed event.

_3:00 PM FRIDAY OCTOBER 20th AT HETALIA HIGH SCHOOL. _

"And this is…?"

"You dunno what a ticket it? Where did you come from again?"

"A ticket for what!" he asked quite agitated, but couldn't help to chuckle at his stupidity.

He smiled brightly and explained "homecoming, of course. You're gonna see me win right? Tomorrow, I can get you a ticket too…" he pointed to Lili.

"No need, my bruder's on the team," she admitted. "But I can't wait to see you play. It's gonna be fun!" she said with a smile directed at Arthur. "Oh, hey Yekaterina," she said hastily trying to get out of the conversation. They went on to talk small talk about the weather or makeup or whatever girls gossip about.

"So…you're coming right?"

"Sure," he said. It's not like he had anything better to do. Anything was better than spending a Friday night with his brothers and father.

"And then we'll all go out for pizza! It'll be great!" he smiled.

Arthur gazed in Alfred's sky blue eyes. There was no way he could reject his offer, not like this at least. Not after everything he did for him, even if it was something as wretched as football. He strained himself to say "wouldn't miss it for the world."

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>Author's Notes: What do you think? Damn it's so cliché and angsty I couldn't even cut the sexual tension with a knife. Why doesn't he just confront his father? Hm…maybe cause I'm a lazy writer and I know I'll need ideas later so I'm saving it for a later date. No…that can't be right ;) I'm not <em>that<em> smart…**THANK YOU FOR ALL THE KIND REVIEWS! I LOVE YOU ALL!** Anyways, next chapter might actually be exciting, yes that's better than thrilling, so get pumped. Now if only writing an essay was this easy…


	16. Chapter 16

Welcome to chapter 16! Yes I updated this week! I can't believe it! I've been overloaded with school work and the stupid play but somehow I found time to update! WOOOT! Anyways, I'd just like to take the time to say thank you to all my readers and reviewers! THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! Here's a virtual cookie! This chapter's a bit of a filler, as they all are, but I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Strong language.

Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia :'(

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><p>"Someone's quite happy this morning," Matthew noted as Alfred skipped into his room. He was still wearing that ridiculous jacket that he must've bought over the weekend, however it looked fairly old and smelled like a library. How else could Alfred own such a ridiculous jacket?<p>

Alfred grinned. "I'm always happy!" He sat upon Matthew's mahogany desk carelessly, almost making one of hockey posters of the Canadian Olympics team fall to the wooden floor.

"Yeah, but today you're particularly annoying." Matthew pulled a red sweatshirt over his long sleeved shirt.

"Eh? I'm just excited for the playoffs!"

"Excited that _Arthur's_ going," he said with a sly smile making Alfred blush. "You're so predictable, Al."

Flustered, he protested "am not!"

"Not to mention irritable," he muttered knowing wouldn't hear him. Rarely anyone did. "Now get your belongings together or your not going to have any breakfast," he scolded leaving Alfred alone in his brother's room.

Alfred couldn't resist being tempted by Matthew's breakfasts consisting of the best pancakes one could eat. "Don't eat them all! I'm starving!" he called back grabbing his phone and chasing his brother down the steps.

When the two blondes scrambled into the kitchen the kitchen, their father glared at them over his newspaper from the kitchen table. "Morning." He sipped his coffee.

"Whatcha reading?" Alfred asked curiously, and then slid into an empty chair. Not like he actually cared, but he hated silence. Matthew pulled a clean frying pan from the dishwasher and turned on the stove.

"Oh nothing," he scoffed folding the paper. "I'm just a bit tense. You see, a couple of nights ago there was a supposed break in to my school. I just want you two to be cautious," he reprimanded.

Alfred's eyes widened. It couldn't be… "S-so what did they, um, steal?"

He shrugged and said skeptically "we don't know yet."

"Who wants pancakes?" Matthew sang then slapped a pancake onto Matthew's plate.

He gulped down the rest of his coffee before adding "but thanks to the age of technology we'll catch the thief in no time!" He ruffled Alfred's sandy blonde hair before grabbing his suitcase.

"Great," he mumbled forcing a smile and looked down at the golden pancake. Suddenly, he wasn't hungry anymore.

* * *

><p>"Where is he?" Arthur murmured to himself nervously looking at his watch. Five thirty sharp. Alfred had told him to meet him at the front of the building after the game for pizza with his friends. Something about wanting his friends to know Arthur better. And here Arthur was at the front of the building, with no sign of him.<p>

"Hi Artie!" a loud voice exclaimed echoing the sound of a car's horn. He sighed before walking over to an already full blue convertible. He climbed into the open door and sat in the small sliver between Francis and Antonio. Alfred stepped on the gas petal and asked "did you like the game?"

"Yeah, it was cool," he lied remembering only the parts he did mention to catch over the top of his book. And most of them were glances at Alfred…

Gilbert exclaimed "And now we're going to counties!"

"Cool," he said pretending to be interested.

"It's going to be in the city this year! Have you ever seen the city before?" Alfred asked.

"Of course I've been to a city," he scowled. Just because he came from a foreign country doesn't mean he's never seen a city before…_Primitive Americans, _he thought.

"I meant _the_ city not just any city, ya know."

"_The _city?" he asked a bit confused. There were plenty of cities he could've been talking about. Hetalia was considered a bustling city, not as crowded asLondon of course.

Antonio raised an eyebrow. "_La ciudad de_ _Nueva York [1]_?"

"English?" Arthur demanded.

"Fucking New York City," Gilbert answered bluntly from the passenger's seat.

"Oh yeah," he said blushing. "I've heard lots about it and I flew in over it a bunch of times." He remembered having the stupid flight attendants say 'if you look at your right, you can see the empire state building' and so on. Although, Arthur always had the aisle seat, so there was no chance of seeing it anyways.

He gaped as the car jolted into a stop. "You've never been?"

Arthur shook his head. What was so great about it? It was probably just likeLondon. Lots of people crowding onto buses and subways to start their monotonous cycle of work.

"Well you don't know what you're missing. It's wonderful! But the most wonderful part is the nighttime. Everything sparkles and glows! It's so magical!" Alfred babbled.

"It pales in comparison to le Paris," Francis exclaimed wrapping his arm around Arthur.

"I bet it does," he murmured pushing Francis' arm off of him. It was bad enough he was sitting next to him. Maybe this was a bad idea. There was a reason Alfred had his friends and Arthur had his, or just Alfred.

"Well, then I'll just have to show you," Alfred announced.

"Really? That's awfully kind of you."

"Hey, don't sweat it dude." The car pulled into the tightly spaced parking lot. It was fuller than when he would usually come; although it didn't surprise him seeing as today was Friday. Not to mention the entire football and cheerleading team was practically there. The five of them piled out quickly before entering the pizzeria. A wave of compliments and shouts came from the large table in the middle of the restaurant. The five of them pulled out chairs and sat at the edge of the table. The table consisted of five girls from the cheerleading team, one of them being Michelle, twelve from the football team, and Arthur.

"Al, you were great, as usual," Michelle gawked and kissed him on the cheek.

"I know," he said confidently making Arthur roll his eyes.

"Looks like your bruises are healing," she pointed out. Not like she cared or anything.

He forced a smile. "Yeah, I guess."

"Alfred, I'm cold," she complained letting Alfred wrap his bomber jacket around her. Arthur rolled his eyes. _Cliché slut,_ he thought.

"Archie, who did you think was the best?" Francis asked putting his arm around him.

He wiped off his arm, once more. _Has anyone every heard of personal space?_ "It's Arthur, not Archie."

"Whatever. But you have to admit I was fantastic! I saw you trying not to stare…" he flirted, and then wrapped his arm around him again.

"Dude, you're so fucking disgusting. Leave him alone," Gilbert scolded although Francis barely listened.

"You cannot resist _mon beauté [2]_." He leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. His mouth was wet and slimy, and smelled like a reptile.

"Get off of me, git!" he yelled pushing him back onto his chair. "I think I need to burn my face," he muttered loud enough for Francis to hear. _How is Alfred friends with these people?_

"While you're at it, you can pluck those eyebrows too," Francis insulted. "They probably have their own area code or something…"

Arthur growled and walked into one of the washrooms. He began to lather his face with warm water to wipe his face of that slimy Frenchman. He looked at his reflection in the square mirror. _Are my eyebrows really that big? Even Alfred said something about it, once. _He ran his finger over his black eyebrows.

He shook the thoughts from his mind and returned to the table to see Alfred playing on a cell phone. Scratch that. _Arthur's_ cell phone.

"What the bloody hell are you doing with my phone?" he gritted through his teeth.

He gazed his eyes to the floor. "Well…the table started vibrating because you got a text…"

"What gives _you_ the right to be reading my texts?" He snatched the phone from his hands.

"Well…you're my…friend! And I want you to teach me poker."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Michelle asked clutching Alfred's arm tighter.

Arthur looked down at the text message from Scottie.

_Where are you? Poker starts in less than thirty minutes? Also, while you're out, can you get some beer? _

He thought of what could happen to Alfred if his father was drunk again. He wasn't going to let that happen. He could handle having a few bruises, but not having the burden being the reason of someone else's pain. Especially if it was Alfred. "No, you can't," he said sympathetically.

"Why not?" he whined pushing Michelle off of him.

"Cause I said so, okay!" he barked.

Alfred tugged Arthur over to the corner of the restaurant. "Artie, what is this about?"

"Nothing," he whispered and began to walk back to the table. "Just please, enjoy yourself."

He pulled on Arthur's green sweater vest. "Okay. Let's make this fair. I'll tell you something traumatizing and you have to tell me something. Deal?"

"Well…what does traumatizing mean to you?" This really meant, "Let's see if you used a word with more than three syllables in the right context."

He pulled a piece of his hair behind his ear. "My brother cuts himself," he admitted.

Arthur's eyes widened. _Who was his brother again? It wasn't the perverted French blonde…_

"Now, you have to tell me yours," he insisted holding Arthur's hands.

Arthur scowled but looked into Alfred's sympathizing eyes. He squeezed his hands tighter, feeling how sweaty Alfred had become. He sighed "well…when my dad's drunk he beat me." Alfred's blue eyes widened. "I don't want you to go 'cause maybe…he might hurt you…" his voice trailed off into tears.

Alfred threw his arms around him.

"Please, stop squeezing me," he said gasping for air.

"Sorry," the taller one said releasing him. "Why don't we just use a gazebo?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "How will a wedding alter fix this?"

"What! No. The thing with the fake medicine?"

"A placebo?" Arthur asked.

He nodded. "Yeah. Last year my brother was doing this test with them, but of course never told me. So when I was sick, he made me take his medicine and somehow it cured me. But it wasn't real medicine, so the whole thing was just in my head. Anyways, we could bring fake beer to your house, say that it is beer and then he'll just think it is, even if it isn't. So he won't actually be getting drunk, but he'll think he is! Problem solved."

Arthur looked at him blankly. Or rather shocked that he could say something so intelligent. "That had to be the smartest thing you have ever said."

He blushed. "Why thank you."

"Only problem, how are we going to find fake alcohol?"

"Leave that to me," he said slyly and scurried off behind the counter. From the corner of Arthur's eye, he could see Michelle, still wearing Alfred's jacket, glaring at him.

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>1. Translates to New York City<p>

2. Translates to my beauty

Author's Notes: Cliffhanger? I think not. Are you ready for an exciting chapter? Well...it's not going to be the next one. Haha, maybe it will be! Okay, so the gazebo/placebo joke is so overused I just had to! LOL, and I cut out the whole football game because who actually wants to read a story about football? Uh...not me. I hate football. I think it's quite primitive. Guys in tight pants running around and wrestling in the mud. No. BTW I was just wondering if you thought I was a boy or a girl. I think it's so awesome. Although, my profile says I'm a girl. (Is there something about my writing style or...) Nevermind. That was completely random. Actually, something about in psychology we had a promt about someone named Taylor, and we had to draw a picture and give Taylor made up hobbies and stuff. It was pretty cool to see what people assume by their names, especially gender. Okay that was completely random. Anyways, thank you so much for reading this! **THANK YOU ESPECIALLY FOR THE REVIEWS!** Next chapter will be exciting, maybe. Ready for chapter 17?


	17. Chapter 17

Did you miss me? I'm so sorry for not updating on Wednesday, I was planning to but I got a bit stuck and had a ton of work to do :( sorry. I hate writer's block so much. I really do. I want to get back on my normal schedule, but I can't. Too much work. I hate working. Sigh. By the way, this is my longest chapter. Around 3,000 words. [Even though most of it comes from my notes which nobody reads anyways] I know that it is not_ too_ long, but it's long for me. Sometimes I wonder why I even write these notes if they are just going to be skipped...Alas (I'm trying to find new vocabulary so I am not repeating myself every ten seconds), THANK YOU FOR ALL THE NICE REVIEWS! And now...on with the story!

Warnings: Strong language and some more abuse.

Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia.

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><p>"Are you sure this is even going to work?" Arthur asked looking into his lap. He began to fiddle with one of the six corkscrews to a bottle of sparkling juice lying inside a basket. Somehow, Alfred was lucky enough to buy sparkling juice in the restaurant. He felt quite queasy and began to clutch his stomach, in hopes to prevent vomiting.<p>

"Trust me, Artie," he said pulling his convertible into Arthur's driveway.

"I don't know about this…" he foreboded shakily. His knees wobbled, almost unable to get out of the car. "Can't I just come over your house tomorrow or something? Do you really want to play poker _that _badly?"

"No, I just thought…I should be spending more time with you," Alfred admitted taking the basket from Arthur's hands.

"You shouldn't be devoting all of your time with me," he lectured ringing the doorbell.

"But, I _want _to."

"Oh look who it is, dumb and dumber," Scottie snickered opening the front door.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Well…then I guess you don't want the, err, alcohol." He showed him the six bottles of "beer" making Scottie's face light up.

"And it's foreign. FromItaly." Alfred announced. He was smart enough to get a foreign drink, just in case Arthur's father questioned the alcohol content. But somehow, he didn't know anything about American politics.

"Why didn't you just say so?" he asked motioned for them to join them in the kitchen. The kitchen was set up like usual poker nights. The table had four chairs circling around it, with cards and chips of black, white and red spread out on the table.

Jack's face lit up when Alfred came through the doorway, almost surprised. He was only wearing a dirty gray tank top and knee length plaid shorts. "You must be one of Scottie's friends…Arthur, go get our guest a chair!"

"Git," he muttered under his breath, grabbing one of the fold-up beach chairs from the main room. He didn't even take the time to correct his father. He unfolded the chair next to his.

"Actually, I'm Artie's friends," he proclaimed sitting down in the fold up chair.

His eyes scanned him again. "Really?" he asked trying to sound more shocked than displeased.

Alfred nodded quickly. "And I brought you some sparkling wine!" He placed the basket filled with six bottles of Italian sparkling juice on the table. Jack's eyes lit up with delight. "It's all foreign and stuff!"

"I like you already," Arthur's father noted. He uncapped one of the bottles before filling it up for himself. "Want some?" he asked Alfred.

Alfred shook his head. "I'm on seventeen." _That didn't stop you before,_ Arthur criticized.

"So?" Scottie asked pouring some of the "wine" for himself.

"I just don't feel comfortable. Sorry," he lied, trying to convince the others that it really was beer. "Anyways, I'd be butchered if my parents find out." Another lie.

"You sure?" Jack asked again only to get a quick nod. Jack took a sip of the sparkling juice and raised an eyebrow. "It's a bit sweet, for wine."

"Well, it _is _imported fromItaly," Alfred stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

Jack shrugged before collecting all of the cards that were spread out on the table into one hand. He shuffled them twice before beginning to deal out the cards. "Ya know how to play five card draw?"

Alfred looked at him blankly as he was given five cards and eighty "dollars" worth of chips. "Five card what!"

Scottie snickered and scanned his cards one by one. "Don't cha know how to play poker, you git?"

"Uh…no." He picked up his cards and scanned his blue eyes across them. Five of hearts. Five of clubs. Six of diamonds. Two of spades. Ace of spades. They were just random cards to him.

"Figures," Dylan mumbled and slid two cards to his father. "Are deuces wild?" he asked ignoring Alfred's idiocy. His father nodded and gave him two cards in return.

"Artie, what the fuck am I supposed to do?" he whispered.

Arthur shielded his cards from Alfred. Not like he would know what they mean or anything, but just be play it safe. "Give the cards you want to get rid of to my dad," he gritted through his teeth.

He cocked his head. "Why?"

"So you can get a better hand?" _Why else? _

"My hands are fine! Why do I need another hand!" He began to stare at his actual hand.

Arthur chuckled at his stupidity. He didn't think anyone could be _that _stupid. "Let me see your han-cards," he said making the effort to correct himself. He looked at his five cards, then picked out the ace of spades and gave it to his father. In return, Alfred got a king of spades. Wasn't much better…

"What does this mean?" he asked looking at the cards unknowingly. To him, it still just looked like a bunch of cards.

"Well…there are different "hands" in poker," he began explaining the different card combinations in poker. He explained how a royal flush beats a full house which beats a flush and so forth. Not like Alfred card anyways…

"I bet five," Dylan said placing a red chip in the middle of the table after the remaining two replaced their cards.

"Same," Scottie agreed and tossed a red chip into the center.

The fluidity of the game halted when it came around to Alfred's turn. "What do I do?"

"If you like your cards, place a red chip. If not, don't and you fold-end your turn this round. Or you could add more money if you're feeling confident," Arthur began attempting to replace his poker lingo with terms even a child could understand. Or for his case, Alfred.

Alfred nodded before placing a red chip in the center. It's not like he knew what he was doing.

Arthur scanned his cards before placing two white chips in the pile. "Twenty."

One by one the pot became higher before it was only Alfred and Jack still fighting over the spot. Actually, Alfred just agreed to what ever Jack put down. After seven times of this monotonous routine, he stopped before turning over his cards. Two aces, two jacks and a three of spades.

"Alfred, you won!" Arthur cheered, quite happy that his father was lagging behind. He couldn't risk him winning the "grand prize" of alcohol and getting drunk while Alfred was still here.

"I did?" he asked with a radiant smile. He collected all of the chips from the pile and placed them sloppily beside him.

"Beginners luck," Jack muttered sipping more sparkling juice from his dirty mug.

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><p>The game continued for over an hour, until it was just Arthur and Alfred left. His father had to go to work and Arthur's brothers both lost all of their chips to Alfred who was unpredictably in the lead by over three hundred chips. "You know, I don't usually lose games of poker," Arthur said slyly trying to convince Alfred he was doing this on purpose.<p>

"Usually?" Alfred asked confused and scanned his cards. Seven. Seven. Two. Ten. Ten. He was actually getting the hang of the game, even if he relied too heavily on beginners luck.

"Well, nobody could ever be good as Eily. She never lost. I think she won her college funding that way." He thought back to the time Eily went to Las Vegasand almost won over twenty thousand dollars, but ended up with only ten thousand. Or during that one party she threw when Arthur was twelve. Her conceited friends convinced her to play strip poker. Yes, _strip_ poker. And of course, Eily ended up with everyone else's clothes. Except for her shirt which she offered optionally to remove in an attempt impress her drunken boyfriend. Arthur shivered just thinking about it.

"Well, you have to admit that I'm amazing," he shouted showing off his chips once more.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Now don't get cocky about it."

"I won't," he sang placing down two white chips. His phone began to chirp the same annoying pop song about getting drunk, being drunk or sex. Either way, it wasn't _real _music. Just annoying. Alfred looked down at his phone and scowled.

"What's wrong, love?" Arthur asked.

"It's just Michelle. She's always worrying about me. It's kinda pissing me off."

Arthur grimaced too. "Can I ask you a question?"

Alfred arched one of his thin eyebrows.

"Well, I always see you with Michelle, and it's not like just talking or anything…" he sighed unable to find the right words. "And I know you told me that I should trust you with her, but, I just feel so…so…angry when you're with her." Angry was an understatement. He wasn't quite angry as opposed to jealous. "'Cause I thought that _we_ were dating."

"Arthur, you know that I love you," he began. He started almost every lecture this way. Arthur already knew that he loved him. Did Alfred really have to reassure him? It was almost as of he was throwing around the term like it meant nothing. Yes I _love _you. And I _love_ cheeseburgers.

"I just want to wait until, ya know, after high school."

Arthur nodded. "So, you're just _using_ Michelle?"

He bit his lip and answered guiltily "yes."

Arthur rolled his jade eyes.

"But just until the end of high school," he defended. "I can't have everyone going around saying these nasty things! You've seen what they do to gays."

Arthur winced at the word _gay._ Why couldn't he have said homosexual or even queer? "I went to an all boys school," he reminded him. Although most of the students were not gay, or in the closet, they were more accepting; even thoughEngland had not yet legalized same sex marriages.

"Well then I'll just hafta tell ya what they do in Hetalia. Even since gay marriage was legalized they still treat them like dirt. When Francis came out as bisexual, he was severely bullied. Somehow he pulled through, but he was beat up all the time and stuff. People were scared to have him the locker rooms or use the men's bathroom. He was almost not allowed to join the football team. It's really bad."

"How did you," he coughed "uh, _know_?"

The American smiled. "Okay, so this might sound really corny and cheesy, but I knew when I saw you."

Arthur glared at him reminiscing the first time they had met. "You can't be serious!"

"But I am!" He disregarded his cards and placed them face down beside him. "You see, I saw you in the guidance office getting your schedule and shit and I kept thinking about you," Alfred admitted. "Then when you came to buy pizza, well I was a bit overwhelmed by my feelings. I tried to shake those feelings by making fun of you, but I really couldn't."

Arthur gaped in shock, unable to tell if he was telling the truth or just making up some crazy story.

"There's just something different about you, something inexplicable." He leaned in and kissed Arthur on the cheek. "All I want is acceptance."

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><p>It was six in the morning before Arthur heard his father walk into the house. Or <em>stumble<em> into the house and collapse onto the squeaking couch. He could hear the loud screams of fans for some athletic event form his room. His mind thought of numerous possibilities on where he was, or how he got home. He disregarded those thoughts, seeing as it didn't even matter. There was no possible way Arthur could go back to sleep now. Grumbling, he forced himself up from his warm bed and out into the kitchen. The kitchen was still a mess from last night, seeing as he convinced Alfred to leave no earlier than eleven. He cussed under his breath before gathering the chips into one of his hands and the cards in the other. Within seconds, all of the chips collapsed to the floor, scattering throughout the room.

"Art?" his father asked from the other room.

_Shit. _Arthur stood silently in the kitchen, refusing to pick up the lonely chips.

"Arthur! I know you're bloody in there!" he shouted with his voice a bit muffled and connected. He could hear the television shut off in the main room.

"Yeah, I'm in here," he answered for no apparent reason, beginning to assemble the chips faster. Maybe he could make it to his room, his sanctuary, without his father beating him up.

His father asked coldly "so, why aren't you in here?"

Arthur sighed once before placing the chips he managed to collect into a baggie. "I was just cleaning up from last-" he stopped after entering the main room. His father looked worse than Arthur could ever remember. His red aged hair was sticking up in all directions, as well as his shirt looked wrinkled and stained. He was lying on the couch, about to fall over.

He was licking his lips when he said "always cleaning everyone else's mistakes, and too ignorant to see your own. Now who does this remind you of?" He rose from the couch and stared down into Arthur's eyes. He was almost a head taller than his son.

Arthur looked down to the floor. He was flabbergasted his father could even be thinking such valid statements when he was so drunk.

He slurred "when I ask you a question, you answer me!" He grabbed Arthur's wrists and threw him to the wooden ground.

Tears began to well in his eyes as he refused to respond. He would just hit him harder anyways, and he didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"We were all happy without you, the five of us. Then you show up unannounced." He looked at him with disgust before he sneered "get up." Arthur refused, until he was pulled up by his hair.

"P-please, s-stop," he pleaded shakily as his knees began to feel weak.

Jack threw his head back and laughed irritably. "Stop?"

"Or I'll leave," he managed to say firmly.

"Leave? And where will you go? With your _boyfriend_?" he mocked spitting into Arthur's face.

Tears began to roll down his cheek. All he wants is acceptance. Fueled by rage he sprinted towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" he sneered throwing something square and gold from the coffee table at Arthur. It missed, and hit the wall instead shattering glass that held the picture together. Through the corner of his eyes, he could recognize the picture. Arthur had the same picture at his old house inEngland. It was a photo of five people standing against a blue background, forcing themselves to smile.

"Anywhere's better than here," he shouted slamming the front door behind him with a loud bang.

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>Author's Notes: Why hello there my dear readers. Like the cliffhanger? I haven't really wrote one like that for a while, so I decided to! At first I was going to split the ending part, but I just couldn't bring myself to. It's a bit long for one of my chapters, don'tcha agree? Very long. And it's a bit filler-ish. Quite random, I know. Until the end. I feel like Arthur's father's character is kinda hard to write, seeing as he is an OC. It's like one minute he sorta cares for Arthur, <em>sorta<em>, and then the next he is beating him...whatever. They might as well be two different characters. Next chapter will be a bit intense, not like yaoi intense but strong ideas intense. Maybe I'll update tomorrow...depends. **PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW!** Are you ready?


	18. Chapter 18

I'm baaaaack! Yes, even though I _said_ I would update on Wednesdays...I couldn't resist updating. Anyways, so the last one was a bit of a cliffhanger, not saying that this one isn't, so I felt obligated to update. Whatever. THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! I LOVE ALL OF YOU! Anyways, the beginning is very, _very, _angsty and love-y dove-y and a bit of a filler. And remember what I said about plot twists, well...welcome to chapter 18.

Warnings: Some language and plot twists (let's leave it at that)...

Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia, but I wish I did.

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><p>Arthur stormed out of his house and headed towards Dylan's dilapidated car. He barely noticed that it was heavily raining. Who cares if he couldn't drive inAmerica? It's not like anyone would be on the road at six in the morning on a Saturday. He jumped into the driver's seat and turned the keys, which were already in the ignition, to the right. He jumped when the car engine turned on. He didn't even seem to notice the disgusting aromas or thousands of uneaten, moldy pizzas in the car. Within seconds, he composed himself before backing out of the driveway.<p>

_Okay, calm down. It's just like England, _he guaranteed himself as he began driving with Alfred's house as his destination.

After almost forty five minutes of being lost, he managed to find himself in front of Alfred's house, a bit damp. From the outside, he could hear the faint sound of a piano playing Heart and Soul. The sweet melody stopped at the sound of the doorbell. The door opened sharply "oh, hello there Arthur," Matthew said with a smile. He was still in his maple leaf pajama pants and a red sweatshirt. His hair was neatly combed except for a stray curl on the top of his head. "Was Al expecting you this early? He's still asleep," he admitted.

He scratched the back of his head. "No, he's not expecting me."

Matthew shrugged. "I don't think he'll mind." He motioned for Arthur to join him in the main room. He pointed up the steps and said "when you wake him up, come down for breakfast."

Arthur nodded and began to ascend the stairs. When he reached the forth step he turned around and asked "was that you playing the piano?"

His face flustered. "Guilty as charged."

"Well, it was very nice."

"Thank you," he said with a sincere smile and went back to playing the ashen white grand piano.

Arthur opened Alfred's door gradually. "A-Alfred?" he asked shakily.

It was silent except for the rain steadily pattering on the windowsill.

He went closer to him and repeated "Alfred?"

Alfred groaned in his sleep before turning face up.

Arthur carefully walked closer to the head of his bed and sat down. Granted, it was seven AM on a Saturday. Alfred looked…peaceful. He began stroking his lustrous golden locks. One piece of his hair still continued to stick straight up, inexplicably, even after he tries to get it to smooth down. Arthur didn't notice Alfred's blue eyes open until he saw them squeezing them shut repeatedly. "Good morning to you too," he said with a smile. There was silence before Arthur added "what in the world are you doing, you git?"

"Trying to wake up," he said squeezing his sapphire eyes closed again.

He giggled "you _are_ awake."

Alfred's eyes burst open. "Eh! No, I'm dreaming, although I can usually wake myself up by now."

He chuckled again. "The reason you can't wake yourself up, is because you are up."

"Really?" he asked in disbelief.

Arthur nodded.

"Really?" he asked again. There was a slight pause before he squinted at Arthur and asked "what happened to your forehead?"

Arthur touched the right side of his forehead, which was now dripping blood. His eyes began to water as he explained "well…this morning, I think my dad found out and kinda threw a picture frame at me."

Alfred wrapped his arms around him and pulled Arthur beside him. "You're safe now," he began stroking his knotted platinum blonde hair as Arthur continued to sob. Ten minutes went by before his tears faded into a soft whimper. Alfred unlocked his arms and sat up. "Should I get you a band-aid?"

Arthur nodded, wiping his streak of tears with his sweater. He followed Alfred into the bathroom like a lost puppy. The bathroom was pure white tiled and plastered with white paint. There was a picture of a sunflower hanging next to the sink.

Alfred opened the medicine above the marble sink and took out a box of children's band-aids. "Do you want one with dogs or cats?"

The corner's of Arthur's mouth turned upward instinctively. "Don't you have adult bandages?" he sniffled.

"I'll give you cats 'cause you look more like a cat lover," he answered himself before placing a blue bandage with a wide assortment of colored kittens on his forehead.

"I feel like an idiot," he muttered.

He joked "I should've given you the ones with dogs."

"Oh yeah, you're brother said something about making breakfast," he remembered.

His blue eyes lit up. "Really?" He asked while stowing the bandaged back in the cabinet next to two bottles of pills labeled for Matthew. "That's awesome! Mattie makes the best pancakes!" He grabbed Arthur's arm and lead him downstairs into the cream kitchen.

"Eh, good morning, Al" Mrs. Jones said from her spot at the kitchen table when the blondes skipped in. She was still in a large shirt and plaid pajama pants, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Morning!" Alfred yelled back. Arthur wondered how he could have so much enthusiasm so while he was still in his pajamas. He was wearing a blue Giants tee shirt and gray sweatpants. Arthur _was_ a morning person, but he was never _this_ energized.

"You don't need to be so loud," Matthew disciplined while mixing a bowl of batter. "It's still only morning, eh?"

"Sor-_ray_" Alfred pouted sliding into one of the wooden kitchen chairs. Arthur collapsed in the seat next to him.

"Oh, I didn't see you there. Hello, Arthur. How have you been?" Mrs. Jones asked placing her coffee cup onto a coaster.

"Fine, thank you."

"What happened to your forehead?" she asked. Her violet eyes held concern.

"Fell down the steps. I'm very clumsy," he said nervously picking at the black nail polish he applied a week ago.

"Oh dear," she said distressed.

"Al? Can you set the table, please?" Matthew requested, pouring a spoonful of batter into a black frying pan.

Alfred complained "why do _I _have to?" He pulled out his chair before walking over to a light wood colored cabinet. "Is dad eating with us?"

"He's at the school. He's really into finding out the culprit." Mrs. Jones shook her head. "He shouldn't be overworking himself like this. And even worse is that he is relying on _me_ to do some of the work."

Alfred became uncharacteristically quiet as he placed a round plate in front of Arthur. The plate had roses around the rim. Matthew sang "who wants pancakes?" He placed one pancake onto Arthur's plate with a smile, and then resumed cooking.

"Want maple syrup?" Alfred asked pushing a saucer with the words _crème _labeled on it. Alfred shrugged before pouring it on the side of his plate. "We made it ourselves!"

"Al, you can't _make_ syrup! You just collect it," Matthew corrected placing a pancake onto Alfred's plate.

He scowled "same thing."

Arthur raised an eyebrow and ate pancake with his fork and knife. _No wonder Alfred was_ _so_ _excited, this is great!_ "Where did you find maple syrup?"

"Canada!"

"Well, I have to go help your father so I'll be back soon." She pecked Alfred on the cheek. "If you need anything I'm just ten minutes away." She waved goodbye previous to shoving her keys into her pockets and grabbing a white raincoat. "Lunch is in the fridge!" she called, and then slammed the front door closed behind her.

The three of them ate their pancakes in almost silence, except for Alfred's irregular outbursts about the weather or some other small talk topic. "Y'all done?" Alfred asked looking at Arthur's empty plate. He nodded still hung up on Alfred's terrible vocabulary. It made him sound like a hick. Alfred stacked Arthur's plate on top of his and tossed it into the white sink. "Now I guess we can start studying!"

Matthew's lavender eyes widened. "I've never seen you so passionate about studying before," he noted.

"That's 'cause I never found the right person to study with," he answered making Arthur blush.

Matthew smiled was strained when he replied "I hope you have."

With those words, Alfred whisked Arthur by his arm into the living room behind the dinning room. The living room walls were also the same shade of pure eggshell white. The couch matched the light beige colored tiles. He propped himself on the couch and pantomimed for Arthur to join him. He sighed before sitting uncomfortably next to Alfred. He opened one of the two books lying on the coffee table and asked "okay, so where should we start?"

Arthur paused for a second before asking "hmm…well what _do_ you know?"

"About American politics? Uh, nothing?"

The Brit rolled his green eyes. "Do you even pay attention in class?"

"Most of the time," he defended.

He shifted uneasily in his seat. "This is going to be harder than I thought."

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><p>The next three hours past quicker than they expected. Arthur's head was resting on Alfred's lap, slowly drifting into dreamland, with the morning news scrolling in the background. Alfred jumped at the sound of a loud rumble, making Arthur jolt awake. He asked shakily "Artie, w-what was t-that!"<p>

Bitterly he grumbled "how am _I_ supposed to know, you git!" A streak of light sizzled through the dismal sky before the sound of an explosion was prominent. The American quivered. Arthur sat up and looked at him with concern. "Alfred, are you, uh, scared?"

"No!" he said on impulse but yelped after the sound of the thunder became louder. Arthur glared his bright green eyes at Alfred. "I am not!" he pouted "heroes don't get scared."

"Whatever," the Brit said yawning and reached into his black skinny jeans for his old beat up flip phone. He read the small pop up message twice.

_Two missed calls from Scottie._

_Maybe calling him back isn't such a bad idea; _he contemplated seeing as he wasn't planning on staying with Alfred forever. Maybe just the night at most. "Uh, can you excuse me for a second? I need to go to the bathroom," he lied getting up from the couch.

"Please, don't leave," Alfred begged scrunching his knees into his chest.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It's just a small storm, nothing serious. Anyways, I'm just going to be upstairs. You'll be fine. Okay?" he asked patting his head.

"'Kay," he muttered unsatisfied.

"Atta boy," he praised before climbing the steps to the white bathroom. He knocked on the door twice as a precaution before entering the room. He flicked the lights on revealing some tiny spots of crimson blood on the floor. On the marble sink, there were the two clear orange bottles of medicine, now completely drained, except one of them had a loose leaf piece of paper inside. Horrified Arthur yelped when he looked at the white tiled floor.

"What is it!" Alfred said and within seconds stood behind Arthur, dismayed. From the doorway, he could see Matthew's limp and paled body lying on the floor. Dead.

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>Author's Notes: It was bound to happen anyways. Yes, I am a terrible person. Arrest me now, I put two cliffhangers in a row. Mwaha! Naughty, naughty girl. I have two possible directions I'm already mulling over, but I'll somehow figure it out. Just gotta get out of this writer's block. MURRR It's not like anyone reads this anyways, so I might as well ramble to myself. By the way, break starts next week! YIPPEEE! That means more updates! If you haven't realized, the town is called Hetalia located in the state of New York. (*Sigh* If only it did in real life) It's someplace quite comfortable to me. I don't know, there's something about it. And it'll come in handy for later chapters. I just wanted to mention that, if you were curious. Just saying. Sigh. Whatever. I still can't believe I stuck with it this far. By chapter 10 I'm usually like: fuck this shit, but I'm actually doing something productive! This proves I <em>can<em> do something, and stick with it! If I haven't thanked you enough: **THANK YOU TO ALL THE WONDERFUL REVIEWERS AND READERS! I LOVE YOU ALL!** I'll try to write the next part by the end of the week, either Friday or Saturday. How are Arthur and Alfred supposed to fix _this_? (That was cheesy wasn't it!) Ready for chapter 19!


	19. Chapter 19

Welcome! I've decided to put my notes I'd usually put here down at the bottom for this chapter, so you can go right into the story.

Warnings: Some language and suicide.

Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia.

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><p>Dead? Matthew couldn't be dead. His brother couldn't be dead. It just wasn't a possibility. He could've been sleeping. You know, with his flushed violet eyes half open. <em>Okay, stay calm, <em>Alfred told himself as his sapphire eyes began to fill with diluted tears. He knelt beside him. _What could've caused him to do this?_ He grabbed Matthew's scarred arm and softly said "he's still warm." He tossed his phone at Arthur and tried to hide the panic in his voice when he added "take my phone and call Francis."

Arthur didn't question it, even though he wanted to. "Bonjour, Al."

He began breathing heavily. He looked down at Alfred clutching his brother. "Uh, no, it's Arthur. Just come here, like now."

"Oh, Arthur, bonjour."

"This isn't time for games, frenchie," he said clenching his teeth together.

"Okay, okay! Where are you? And more importantly why do you have Alfred's phone?"

"We're in Alfred's bathroom. Something happened and Matthew's dead on-"

"Give me two minutes," he hastily and clicked the end call button.

"What did he say?" Alfred solicited.

"He'll be here," Arthur assured him reaching for the orange bottle of medicine with a small note in it. "Um, Alfred. I think there's a note for you." He said holding a crumpled piece of paper out for Alfred to read.

_Dear Alfred,_

_Sorry you had to find out this way, but I'm leaving you. It's better this way. You wouldn't understand how hard it is to stay alive sometimes, with the slightest intuition that you stop breathing any second. The medicine doesn't work anymore and the blood helps ease my pain. I'm always living in your shadow anyways, so it's not like anyone would care if I'm gone. I'm sorry that even though I'm dead, I'm still leaving you with all these burdens. Please, don't tell anyone it was suicide. And don't call the police or the ambulance either. I hope you found your happiness with Arthur. I'm sorry, but it's better this way. _

_~Mattie_

"Alfred?" Arthur asked erratically. "What's wrong? You're, um, crying."

"No I'm not," he said nearly inaudibly and avoided gazing into Arthur's eyes. He wiped a tear with the sleeve of his blue tee shirt. "Heroes don't cry."

"Okay, I brought my lifeguarding stuff!" Francis exclaimed. Neither of them heard him waltz up the steps. He was holding a large red box labeled in bold, white letters: Life Guard. He knelt on the opposite side of Matthew and began his primary assessment. "It's faint but he has a pulse, so he's still alive," he professionally assured Alfred. He began demanding for different items from his box, then provided breaths and chest compressions. During the whole time, Alfred held onto Matthew's hand. After about five cycles, Matthew's chest began to rise slowly, although he appeared unconscious. Francis exhaled "okay, now I want to know what happened."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, ignoring the question. "Why isn't he, um, alive?"

"'Cause he was practically dead! He's probably just unconscious now." He began packing up the items into the scarlet box.

"Well, _you're_ the rescuer, make him conscious," the Brit demanded, seeing as Alfred was too damaged to think clearly.

"I'm a lifeguard, not a doctor," Francis reminded. "You alerted 9-1-1 right?"

"Well…um, no," Arthur admitted. "You see, he took these pills-"

"Matt tried to commit suicide? I would've never guessed. He always seemed so…happy!"

"Well he wasn't, okay!" Alfred barked still clutching Matthew's arm. There was a long pause before he blurted "when the fuck is he going to wake up?"

Francis shrugged. "Depends on how many pills he took and the amount of blood he lost." His blue eyes looked down at Matthew's pale body regaining color. "Maybe a couple of hours?"

Alfred shouted "hours! Isn't there some magic cure to get him awake or something? What if we poured water on him or something," he panicked.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Alfred, he's not conscious."

"Then make him conscious!" he demanded.

Francis shook his head. "Mon ami, it's not that easy."

The three of them sat in silence for more than thirty minutes, not making an effort to create small talk or even any conversation at all. The inconstant flicker of lightning shone through the small window above the shower, although no one was aware of it. Their silence was interrupted by Matthew's harsh and irregular breathing. This continued for about two minutes before his violet eyes fluttered open. "M-Mattie?" Alfred asked shakily, almost in disbelief that his brother was alive.

"W-what happened?" he asked dizzily. The last thing he remembered opening an orange capsule of pills and placing a sheet of notebook paper in place of the colorless pills. "W-where am I?"

"You were out cold for an hour," Alfred explained, making him regain all of his memories at once.

"I'm sorry," Matthew sobbed into Alfred's chest. "Al, I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Shhh," he said tracing Matthew's knitted scars with his pointer finger. Each one a different depth. "Stop apologizing to me," he scolded.

Matthew nodded wiping his tears with his blood stained red sweatshirt. His eyes had dark circles engulfing his bloodshot eyes.

Then, something almost snapped in Alfred's mind. "What the hell were you thinking!" he shouted heatedly.

Matthew flinches prior to darting his lavender eyes guiltily at the shower curtain.

"That's right, you _weren't_ thinking."

"Alfred, calm down, he's obviously been through a lot," Arthur explained he put one of his scrawny arms on Alfred's shoulder.

Alfred whisked his hand away. "Calm down?" He threw his head back and laughed, almost unable to control his emotions. "He was going to leave me," he accused pointing his long finger at Matthew. His eyes swelled with tears. "I was going to lose my brother, and you _expect _me to calm down."

"Okay, that's enough!" Francis interjected and pulled Alfred out of the bathroom by his shirt collar, leaving Arthur and Matthew alone.

The room was uncomfortably noiseless until Matthew asked softly "how do you do it?"

"Huh?" Arthur asked taken off guard. He didn't quite understand the question. "How do I do what?"

"You know more than anyone how hard the struggle is to keep yourself alive. And frankly, I kept suspecting that you had mild depression, but I never saw any physical signs." He coughed before asking "So…how?"

He paused for a minute. Arthur never pondered upon why he never intentionally hurt himself, it was brought up once or twice but never intended to go through with it. He shrugged, not fully taking the question seriously. "I don't know. Maybe find something that makes you happy?"

"Or someone," Matthew corrected making Arthur's cheeks blush a vibrant pink. He tugged on the sleeves of his scarlet sweatshirt and sighed. "But I'm not good at anything…"

"Sure you are," Arthur reassured him. "What about the piano? Or cooking? Or science?"

"But, everyone just forgets about me," he admitted softly.

He frowned. "Don't say that! What about Alfred? He'd never forget about you."

"I'd beg to differ," he muttered making Arthur glower. He remembered the time when they were about five years old and Alfred left him in one of the tunnels at the park, for three hours. Then there was the New Years when he was eight, where he stayed at his family friend's house overnight in because his parents forgot about him. Or just last night, when he had to get a ride home from a janitor because Alfred already left the game without him. "Sometimes it just gets hard to live when you're constantly being pressure to be like someone else. And everyone tells you you're not good enough, forgets about you and on top of that is my incurable asthma."

"Then why didn't you tell anyone these things?"

Matthew shrugged. "I guess I thought nobody would listen to me."

"I would listen to you! And I bet Francis and Alfred would too," he said unconvincingly.

His lilac eyes lit up. "Really?"

Arthur nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open. "Look, Mattie. I'm real sorry 'bout yelling at you. I was just, angered and shocked and overwhelmed by my emotions," Alfred said. His blue eyes were puffy from crying so hard. He knelt beside Matthew and wrapped his arms around his brother. "Now I want you to promise that you'll never do that again. Ever."

Matthew said weakly "I promise."

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>Author's Notes: Welcome there! Did you like it? I just didn't have the heart to kill Matthew :( then it would just be one of <em>those <em>stories. Whatever. Anyways, I chose not to set the scene at the hospital. I honestly don't know why. Maybe because I am bad at writing hospitals because they make me sad and then the reader knows that he must be alive. Hospitals _usually_ equal a higher chance of living. I wanted to keep it at suspense. Now, if I was reading a story like this, I would honestly flip to the last part to see if he was alive, confirm suspicions before actually reading what happened. Anyways, if that ever happened in real life, please call a hospital. I am training to be a lifeguard, and yes, the second thing you do is ask a by-stander or another lifeguard to call nine one one. Obviously, Arthur must've found him literally after he swallowed the pills because he was not unconscious too long. Even after almost being dead. (Am I being too logical? I mean, it is a story after all?) Be honest, if you were Alfred, you would flip out on your brother too. I know I would...but that's just me. On another note, **THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! I REALLY APPRECIATE IT!** Next chapter will be more mild and boring. Most likely a filler. Whatever. Get excited for chapter 20 (my favorite number)!


	20. Chapter 20

Hello there! Yup, it's me again. This chapter had lots of problems with showing up, so I decided to edit it and repost it just in case :) So, I update quite fast, considering I have writer's block. Okay, for the next week and a half updates will be completely random, due to spring break (YEAH)! Thanks for reviewing! Last chapter was kinda intense, so this was mostly a filler chapter [even if my favo(u)rite number is twenty], but I hope you like it!

Warnings: Some language.

Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia.

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><p>For the next couple of hours, the four if them played Monopoly with a hockey game on loop in the background. Arthur was never too fond of hockey, or any sport for that matter, and decided to focus on their board game instead. Alfred clutched the die in the two hands. He rolled a total of five landing his racecar onPacific Avenue. Arthur smiled slyly "Alfred, you owe me 900 dollars."<p>

"Come on Artie, you've got, like, a million bucks already! Can't you live without nine hundred?" Alfred complained looking at his pile of money. It was barely over two hundred dollars, let alone nine hundred. He still hadPark Placeand Boardwalk, but no way was he going to let go of his prized properties.

Arthur's brow furrowed. "It's Arthur, and no, pay up," he demanded competitively. Sure, it was cute when Alfred called him Artie when it was just the two of them, but it was certainly demeaning to be called a child's name in the open. Gentlemen don't have public nicknames.

"Come on Artie," he whined. "You know I can't pay it."

"You could if you sold your properties," Matthew explained pushing the bridge of his glasses up with his pointer finger.

"But I don't wanna," he moaned gripping the cards in his hands, making them crease ever so slightly.

"Stop being a bloody child and give me your properties!" He held out his hand, expecting to receive two cards.

"Never!" Alfred announced immaturely.

"Just give me the stupid cards!" Arthur scowled and grabbed the cards from Alfred's hands.

"Fine," he mumbled. "But I am now officially joining your team."

"Whatever," he agreed reluctantly and grabbed the die. He rolled a total of ten which landed his top hat in the Free Parking space.

"Artie, I'm bored," Alfred complained with his blue eyes gazing at Matthew who rolled a total of seven. He slowly moved his thimble to water works and paid Francis seventy dollars.

He rolled his eyes. "How should I entertain you?" he asked sarcastically.

He shrugged. "I dunno. Let me play with your phone!"

"No."

"Puh-lease," Alfred whined.

Arthur sighed. It was like arguing with a child. "Fine, just don't do anything stupid." He reached into his pocket and tossed his old phone at him. _Hopefully he'll stay quiet for a while._

"Who's that?" he asked when he opened the phone lying on his stomach,

"Can't you be quiet for three seconds?"

"Not until you tell me who she is." He rolled onto his back and pointed to Arthur's main screen wallpaper. It was a picture of Arthur smiling with a blonde woman who appeared younger than her actual age.

Francis leaned over and glanced at the picture with wide eyes. "I didn't know you were interested in older women," he said raising his eyebrows twice.

Arthur frowned. "That's my mother. I'd appreciate it if you didn't go around calling her hot."

Francis blushed. "When you get a chance, tell her that I think she looks young for her age. Moms love it when you tell them those things."

He bit his bottom lip, holding back salty tears. "Sorry to inform you but I won't be getting a chance to tell her," he said hollowly. "Now if you don't mind, can we return to the game?"

"Oui, oui. Bien sûr [1]," he muttered taking the die and rolling double fours. He moved his chrome dog piece onto the chance tile before picking up a pastel colored card. "Ouais [2]! Get out of jail free card!" He picked up the die and rolled again, landing himself safely onMarvinGardens.

The game continued silently, except for Alfred's constant complaints about being bored. Eventually, he curled up onto the couch and flipped to a football game. "Hello?" Alfred asked out of nowhere.

Arthur looked at him oddly, only now noticing he was talking on the phone. Scratch that, _Arthur's_ phone. "Give that back, you git!" He charged for Alfred, knocking over some of his money and board pieces.

"No, this is Alfred," he replied standing on top of the couch, holding the phone above his head.

"Alfred! Give me back my phone!" he demanded trying to reach for his phone. Alas, he was too short.

"He's busy at the moment," he explained.

"No I am not!" Arthur shouted, hoping whoever was on the other line could hear him.

"Where do you _think _he is?"

"Alfred!" he yelled finally grasping his phone in his hand. "H-hello?" he said shakily, praying it wasn't anyone important on the other line.

"Art! Get your ass back here! You had no right to steal your brother's car, let alone go to Alfred's house," his father yelled from the other side of the phone. Arthur was unsure if he was fully sober yet, and did not plan on finding out.

"Something came up and I'm staying tonight, if you like it or not," he answered stubbornly.

"What!" he snarled. "Maybe your mother condoned this behavior, but as your guardian I am certainly not excusing your behavior!"

"Then don't!" he refuted. "But don't expect me to come home tonight." With those words, he snapped his phone shut. The other three had their eyes glued on Arthur, all filled with worry.

"And who was that? Your girlfriend?" Francis teased breaking the tense silence.

"Not funny."

"Boys! Come in for dinner!" Mrs. Jones practically sang.

"Coming!" Alfred replied for the four of them. They all simultaneously stood up and walked over to the dining room. The smell of something cooking mixed with burnt firewood thickened when they entered.

"Haven't seen you two for a while," Mr. Jones said. His blue eyes were fixed upon a newspaper article. "How's school going?"

"Magnifique. And you?"

"Oh, you know. Same old, same old," he said with a smile. "How about you Arthur? Although, Al is always going on and on about you."

"Dad!" Alfred whined making Arthur's eyebrows rise, unsure if he was more flattered than concerned.

"School is fine, Mr. Jones," Arthur said. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Mr. Jones shook his head. "I'm sorry to say that I haven't. Such a shame, and please, call me John."

"It's not like they _stole_ anything," Alfred defended flailing his arms in the air. "I don't even know why you're so hung up about this!"

Mr. Jones shrugged. "I guess it is just a principal of a thing. I've got to keep up the reputation of the school."

"By the way, Artie and Francis are staying tonight!"

Arthur kicked Alfred's chair, making him whimper. "That is, if it is okay with you."

"Nonsense. You are always welcome here. Think of us as an extension of your family," Mr. Jones said with an inviting smile.

"I hope you're all hungry for sloppy Joes and Mac and cheese," Mrs. Jones announced placing two large serving platters onto the table.

Arthur looked at Alfred who dared not to pause before grabbing for the largest sloppy Joe and slapping it onto his plate. "Aren't cha gonna have one?" Alfred asked taking a large bite of his meat sandwich.

Arthur hesitated. It felt, almost wrong, to take food from him, even if they were friends. Scratch that, more than friends. But he also did not want to disrespect his parents. He looked at the pile of buns filled with a mystery type meat. In light of it all, he took a small spoonful of macaroni and the smallest burger he could find, although he wished he took more. Although the burger looked quite disheveled, it was quite appetizing as well as the macaroni made with about five different types of cheeses that, quite frankly, he's never even heard of. The conversation at the table was nothing more than small talk about school, with Alfred talking most of the time. He went on and on about this state college that was planning on giving him a scholarship. Arthur ate in silence silently hoping that he would even have the chance to attend a college.

"We'll be upstairs if you need us!" Alfred shouted once he noticed the other three had finished. The four of them pulled out their chairs simultaneously.

"Thank you again for the meal, Mrs. Jones, it was delectable," Arthur said authentically.

"Eh?" she said a bit surprised, but covered it with a smile. "Thanks!"

"Last one upstairs has to sleep on the floor!" Alfred called immaturely already racing up the steps, taking two steps at a time. The other three trampled each other with the intention to not wake up the next morning on the hardwood floor.

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><p>"Let's play never have I ever!" Francis suggested seeing as Mrs. Jones complained that it was far too late at night for them to be watching mindless television, although it was really her way of saying go to sleep. Given, it was past midnight.<p>

"Sure!" Alfred said radiantly. The four of them were sitting in a circle of the wood floor in Alfred's room. Then he held both of his hands out. Arthur mimicked him, not understanding what he was doing. "I'll go first. Hmm…never have I ever smoked."

Arthur looked at Alfred in confusion and scratched his, or should he say Alfred's, oversized _I Heart NY_ shirt and red plaid sweatpants. He shouldn't have agreed to wear Alfred's pajamas, although they smelled like lavender and felt cozy. "I don't get it! What am I supposed to be doing!"

"Okay, so one by one we're all gonna say a true statement. The other players must put down a finger if they've done what the other person hasn't. M'kay?" Alfred explained.

"Uhh…sure," he said uneasily and reluctantly put down his smallest finger.

Alfred gasped. "Artie? Really?"

He glared at Alfred. "I lived inEngland, remember? They'll give a pack of fags to anyone," he muttered. Students practically smoked in the bathrooms at his old school. Not to mention the teachers were virtually providing the cigarettes to the students. Much different than Hetalia. People didn't go around smoking in the courtyards or anything, unless you were Scottie of course. "Any more questions?"

Alfred gaped as Francis began the next statement. "Never have I ever cheated on someone I loved."

Alfred lowered one finger guiltily watching the immense stares he received, mostly directed from Arthur. "What! Can't a guy live a little?"

"No," Matthew giggled. "Hmm…never have I ever drunk alcohol."

The other three lowered one of their fingers. Then, it came to Arthur's turn. "Never have I ever had a girlfriend."

Both Francis and Alfred clenched one of their fingers into a fist. "Oh Archie, I see you're, how do they say it, "playing for the other team" I suppose?"

"Quit it, Frenchie," Arthur scowled ignoring the fact that he called him Archie. Suddenly, he remembered the words Alfred had told him last night and replied "I'm straight, just s-"

"Okay!" Alfred interrupted making sure the conversation wouldn't persist. He couldn't risk Francis spreading rumors about Arthur's sexuality. It wouldn't end well. "Uhh…never have I ever been outta the country."

"Al, haven't you been toCanada?" Arthur asked.

"Oh right," Alfred blushed. "Hmm…never have I ever been out of the continent."

Arthur and Francis removed another finger.

The game ended with Matthew having three fingers still remaining, which didn't surprise any of them. "Hey Artie, come help me get the sleeping bags outta the closet," Alfred said walking over to the closet in the corner of the room, near the desk. The two doors were mirrors which reflected the large, black circles swallowing both of their eyes. "I think it's on the top shelf!" Alfred said standing on his toes to reach the blue and red sleeping bags. In doing so, he managed to avalanche a purple box filled with photos. He wrapped his arms around the two sleeping bags and asked "Artie? Can you pick those up?"

"Uhh…sure," Arthur said uneasily. He shuffled to the floor and gazed over each of the pictures. There were about ten pictures of Alfred at around age five draped in his bed sheets that he used as a cape. On top of those were more pictures, except he was a bit older and dressed as a cowboy. He looked much chubbier, in lack of a better word, than he did now. By the time he scanned through the fortieth picture, he found out why. Between pictures where he was age thirteen to age fourteen, he seemed to have replaced his baby fat and blemishes with chiseled features. His phases of dressing up in odd costumes were replaced with a football in one of his hands. He scoffed off those thoughts stuffing the pictures into the box and kicking it into the closet.

"Al, there's only two sleeping bags," Matthew noted pushing his glasses higher on his nose.

Alfred blushed, as if it was his intention all along. "Well, um, I guess Artie will have to sleep with me." Then he quickly added "if that's okay with you."

Arthur pressed his lips together and pouted "fine." Although, he secretly couldn't be happier.

_To Be Continued_

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><p>1. Translates to yes, yes of course in French<p>

2. Translates to yeah in French

Author's Notes: Hihi! So, this update was quite boring. Yes, I use quite often. Just as I use the 'U's a lot, which I get punished for. Remind me to stop using 'U's in words like favorite and color. And using the 'S' in realizing. And please don't kill me with translations. [I'm relying on google.] On another note, filler chapters are hard to write :( but it was fun! My brain is all scattered cause of the end of the quater, but I'll recover. I'm thinking about updating some other stories and writing new ones. I've got some ideas in mind. Maybe some crossovers? Or a cardverse? I don't know! I wanna write different genres and expand my writings, but I also don't want to abandon this story, cause then I'll never finish it! AGGGG I'm so conflicted! By the way, **THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING! I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVE 50! NO, OVER FIFTY! IN 19 CHAPTERS! ACK I ALMOST DIED!** Anyways, next chapter will be more filling, maybe. I haven't really planned out the next couple of chapters so...yeah. I'll try to add some fluff.


	21. Chapter 21

Dear readers, hello there. It's mee~! Yes, I am updating again. And yes, it is a Friday. What is this mockery? I know. Lucky for me it is spring break. But sadly, I was really really sick yesterday. (I even had to use my inhaler). It was kinda scary. Okay, getting back to the story and avoiding my personal life...Sorry to inform you, but it is a _really really_ short chapter. And in case you're kinda confused, the first part is on one day, and the second half is on the next day. Just in case. I don't know. It kinda confused me too.

Warnings: Some language.

Disclaimer: WHY CAN'T I OWN HETALIA!

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><p>"Yo, Artie, come sit with us!" Alfred called from the other side of the blue and red colored cafeteria.<p>

Arthur glared at him, mortified, wishing nothing more than to buy an apple for lunch and return to studying. Instead, he gathered his pride and sat down in the black empty chair next to him. He didn't want to give the impression that he was perchance _ignoring_ him, rather masking his relationship with him.

"You made it just in time!" Gilbert shouted. Arthur asked himself, _did they have to be this loud, all of the time? I swear people in _China _could hear them. _ "We're gonna take bets on who's gonna get the most love tickets tomorrow."

He raised a thick eyebrow. "Love tickets?"

"Ja, they're for a fundraiser for the photo club, but it's sort of turned into an annual event. People buy these love tickets anonymously or not in a way to break awkward confrontations with their crushes," the stiff blonde male explained. His strict speaking and heavy German accent made Arthur a bit intimidated. Not to mention he was probably over six feet tall and extremely strapping.

"Sounds like a popularity contest to me," Arthur muttered and slinked into his chair.

"Well, it is!" Michelle said happily. "Last year, Alfred and _I_ got the most," she boasted snuggling herself on Alfred's shoulder.

Arthur rolled his eyes. Not because he was jealous or anything, no, he was certainly _not_ jealous. He just thought it was rather idiotic.

"That's why _I_'m placing all my money on them," Gilbert announced slapping down a hundred dollar bill on the table. Arthur scowled. Money obviously meant nothing to them. Clearly their parents gave them everything they've ever wanted and they are just going to inherit the family business, never comprehending the value of money.

"Bruder, don't be so naïve," the blonde scolded throwing it back into Gilbert's lap. _At least the stiff blonde knew _something_ about money. _

"Oh come on, Luddie, live a little," Francis exclaimed patting him on the back.

Ludwig's slender eyebrow twitched. "I will not sit here and condone this behavior. Goodbye," he said collecting his neat books before walking off.

"What a ray of sunshine," Gilbert joked and then stuck out his tongue immaturely. If it was possible, Gilbert might have been just as immature as Alfred.

"He's just jealous that he's never gotten one," Michelle said tossing one of her pigtails over her shoulder. "Don't worry Arthur. You'll get some. Especially with that cute British accent of yours."

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"Okay, let's get back to betting!"

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><p><em>Please don't see me. Please don't see me,<em> Arthur prayed as he walked into the cafeteria. Why he even chose to go the cafeteria, he was unsure of. Maybe it was impulse, or an excuse to see Alfred. No. It couldn't be the latter. _I'm just getting an apple today then going to the library, _he tried to convince managed to stroll over to the lunch line without being noticed by anyone at Alfred's table. He forced his sea green eyes away from the table. He placed a filthy bottle red tray in front of him and placed a bruised Macintosh apple on his tray. He fished into the front pockets of his skinny jeans and gave the cashier and crumpled dollar bill and a smile before walking off. _Please don't see me. Please don't see me,_ he prayed once more.

"Hey, eyebrows! Come sit with us!" Michelle exclaimed noticing Arthur passing by their table.

He frowned. Of all the people that could've caught him, it _had_ to be Michelle. "Oh, uh, I have to go to the library," he lied scratching the back of his blonde head.

"Artie, please stay!" Alfred begged with large, sapphire eyes.

Arthur sighed and sat in the black chair next to Alfred. Nobody could say no to Alfred. It was just unheard of. "Just for a minute or two. I really ha-"

"Yeah!" Alfred said his strong arms around his neck.

"Let go of me!" he muttered through his clenched teeth.

"Sorry," Alfred mumbled softly.

"So, did cha get any love tickets?" Michelle inquired, although Arthur knew she didn't really care. She just wanted to boast about how many she had.

"Uh, just two," he said truthfully, not wanting to get into more details.

"Oooh, from whom?" Gilbert asked.

Ludwig smacked the back of Gilbert's head. "Gil, that was rude."

"Well, sor-_ray_," he muttered. "You're just miffed 'cause that Italian babe never gave you one."

"Am not!" Ludwig said attempting to hide the fact that he was blushing, uncontrollably. Quickly, he cleared his throat and asked "what about you and Elizaveta?"

"Stop fighting, you two," Matthew said in almost whisper.

"Stay outta this, Al," Gilbert hissed.

"That's Matthew," Francis pointed out. "The better looking brother."

"_I_'d beg to differ," Michelle exclaimed. "I mean how many did _he_ get? Like one? And it was probably from _you_." Francis slinked into his chair, embarrassed as fuck. "And Al got like 50."

"You're making a mountain outta a molehill," Alfred stated. "I only got like ten, maybe twenty."

"Al, for crying out loud, some girl wrote in fucking calligraphy for you!"

Arthur's breathing became faster. _No, no, no. Why did she have to mention _my _ticket?_

"Wait! Calligraphy? Isn't that the same girl that left that rose for you like a week ago?" Francis asked.

Arthur's heart began to beat feverishly. _Why did he have to remember that?_

"Oooh, Alfred's gotta secret admirer! Michelle, are you jealous yet?"

"Of course not," she lied making Arthur's heart rate return to normalcy. Then, she kissed Alfred on the cheek. "I've got no competition. Right Al?"

"Yup," he said convincingly. "So Artie…let me see your tickets."

"Uh, look at the time, I should be going," he said scrambling to get up.

Alfred pulled on the sleeve of his long sleeved white shirt. "Puh-lease."

He scowled. "It's none of your business. I would be ever so grateful if you'd let go of my shirt, please."

"But we're friends right? And friends don't keep secrets."

Arthur rolled his emerald eyes.

"Come on Artie," he said with a smile. "I'll let cha see mine."

"Really, you don't want to see them," he started. Ignoring his refutes, Alfred snatched the two pastel colored tickets from Arthur and glanced his blue eyes over them.

"So, who are they from?" Matthew asked.

"Well one's from Lili and the other-" he paused in his tracks. Fuck. His sapphire eyes read over the recipient's name one more time. He could've sworn he wrote anonymous for him. "Anonymous," he lied and tossed the two tickets into Arthur's lap.

"Let me see! I bet I could figure out who it was!" Michelle exclaimed holding out her petite hand making Alfred's blue irises widen immensely.

"I'd better be going." With those words, Arthur scurried out of the cafeteria as fast as he could.

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>Author's Notes: I'm really mad. I never intended on Michelle to be this quote-un-quote evil, no antagonist, character. But, what's an angsty drama love story without a little bitch? Uh...boring. Like this story. Just kidding. It's really angsty and girly and fluffy. Uh-hello, it's rated T not M. I'll write a story rated M one day...but it wouldn't be a teenage romance high school kinda story. Whatever. I really just wanna finish this story before the summer because I am going on a three week trip for music! ACK! So excited! Okay, why do I keep talking about my personal life? None of you care anyways. Okay so I'm thinking about writing a new story, or continuing one of the ones I started. Ideas? Suggestions? I'm all ears. Right now I have the other two stories, which I might delete, but maybe like an AU. YES! I am doing that. Goodbye, farwell to this story. LOL no. I WILL finish this story. I promise. Nee hee (story reference). By the way, <strong>THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS!<strong>


	22. Chapter 22

Happy Easter/Passover or whatever you celebrate this time of year! Welcome to another installment of Starcrossed. Yeah! *said with as little zeal as possible* How am I able to update every other day I am not sure either? Okay so this chapter is really short, maybe because I inexplicitably hate the number 22. Yes, I don't know why, but I do. Blech, 22. Anyways, if I titled these chapters it would most likely be something around the lines of awkward confrontations or something like that. I don't know. Well...there's a small spoiler. Whatever. It's not like I just told you the ending or anything...I would never. I want you all to be surprised. Even though, it shouldn't be. I mean, durr, it's a ansgty/love-y story. Okay, on with the story!

Warnings: Some strong language and the number twenty two.

Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia.

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><p>"Al, we need to talk," Michelle stated from down the cerulean and scarlet colored hallway. She began weaving herself through crowds of students to catch up to him. Alfred knew what these words meant, and frankly, he was happier than ever to finally see the day that Michelle would want to break up with him.<p>

"'Sup Michelle," he said nonchalantly watching other students collide with each other spilling papers and books across the floor, not ever bothering to pick it up.

"You love me, right?"

He stopped walking in his tracks. Hues of bright colors rushed passed him in motions almost inhumanly possible. "What is this about?"

"Answer me," she begged meekly. Her dark eyes caked by pounds of innocent makeup spilled small, salty droplets. And if you thought Alfred was emotional…

He wrapped his arm around her. "Of course I love you."

She pulled out of his embrace rashly and face him. "Then how come we don't go on dates like we used to."

Alfred sighed then shrugged. "I dunno."

"Is Saturday good?" She asked desperately.

He aligned his lips together then shook his head rapidly. _Of all days, why did she choose Saturday? _"Saturday's bad."

She tilted her head. "And why's that? I'm pretty sure there's no game-"

"No. It's not that. It's…can you keep a secret?"

She looked skeptical, but nodded anyways.

"Yeah, my parents set up this whole tutoring thing 'cause I'm kinda failing social studies," he lied compellingly.

"I could help you. You know I'm doing pretty well in Euro," she bragged.

Alfred shook his head. He noticed the scrambling crowds becoming thinner. "Sorry."

"Maybe Sunday then," she blurted.

He shrugged. "I dunno…"

"Al, you seem really busy lately. What's gotten into you?" Her dark eyes held apprehension. "Are you cheating on me!"

His blue eyes widened as he said shakily "of course not! Look Michelle, can't we continue this later? I've gotta get to Euro history or Mr. Wang is gonna beat me up."

"No, Alfred F. Jones." God, he hated it when she called him his first name. "Or should I say Alfred _Faggot_ Jones."

"What's gotten into you Michelle?"

"You're cheating on me! With that dumb British kid!" she shouted.

"Huh?" he asked with wide blue eyes. _How does she find out these things?_

"It's bad enough that I have every fucking girl in this fucking school gawking over you, now I've got that stupid Brit too?"

"W-what are you talking about?"

"Don't you dare play dumb with me, Jones. I know that you bought one of those stupid love tickets for your "precious" Artie. And he bought you one too!"

"Can't cha take a joke?" She raised a poised eyebrow, about to refute until she was interrupted once more. "Well I got really pissed off that he kept following me around like a stray dog that I bought one of those stupid love tickets," he swallowed once before saying "as a joke."

"But he bought one for y-"

"I know. But I couldn't ever imagine where he'd get the idea that I would _ever_ date him. I don't even know where he'd get such a radical idea. I mean, isn't it totally obvious that I love you," he said as his heart fell into his stomach. Was he really saying this right now? Arthur was going to murder him if he ever found out about this.

She shook her head. "Pathetic." Alfred cringed. _Why didn't I just tell her? Life would be so much easier,_ he thought. "So…we're still on for that date?"

"Yeah, yeah, Sunday, whatever," he said kissing her on the forehead goodbye and running off to social studies. He hoped Mr. Wang wouldn't murder him for being late. After all, he _was_ on the model UN team.

To no one in particular she muttered "pathetic."

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><p>"Oh hey Arthur," a shy voice said. "I didn't see you in history so I thought that you were sick."<p>

Arthur looked up from his history textbook to see Lili's giant green eyes staring back at him. He didn't even notice the entire model UN team was already in the classroom. Except Alfred, of course. _Damn it, _Arthur thought to himself. "Why hello," he said forcing himself to laugh, "I wasn't feeling so well." That wasn't a complete lie. Okay, maybe it was. He was planning on skipping social studies just until the week was over. Just when the whole love ticket thing would mull over. Mr. Germania would understand. Or at least he could get Mr. Wang to lie for him. He was hoping nobody would notice, not like anyone would anyways.

Softly she said "I see," then spilled her books on the desk next to Arthur. She bit her lip before asking "um, but any chance are you free after the competition?"

He folded his heavy, dark rimmed reading glasses and set it on the top right corner of his desk. He rubbed the bridge of his nose where two red indents creased his pale skin. Then, he adverting his eyes to the crude picture of a flower with pointed petals. "Listen, I-"

"'Sup dudes!" Alfred interjected. For once, his constant interruptions came in handy.

Lili glared at Alfred. "Oh, hello there," she said in the fakest tone she could pull out of her voice box. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as her green eyes watched him sit in the desk beside Arthur. "As you were, uh, saying…?" she said trying not to sound intruding like Alfred.

"Oh, yes," Arthur said with his face flushing red. "I like you, but in a platonic way," he said finding the most polite words he could muster.

Her eyes blinked twice and nodded swiftly. "Of course. I completely understand." She turned around and began gossiping with Yekaterina. Which was just an attempt to avoid all conversation and contact with Arthur. It was completely understandable. He _did_ break her heart.

"Sorry that I am so late, aru. Please, settle down." Mr. Wang interrupted barging through the door, typically tardy. His dark, tied up hair was sagging to the left in tangled strands and wild curls. He turned around to write something on the board in a dark blue marker.

"Artie, what does platonic mean? Is it an insult? Is that why Lili is crying?" Alfred whispered. Well, a whisper for Alfred meant normal volume for others.

Mr. Wang spun around heatedly. "Mr. Jones. Since you like talking so much why don't you tell the whole class what I had written on the board."

Alfred squinted at the white board. "Uh…E.I.E. O…" he said making the other students snicker.

"Mr. Jones, I will not tolerate your antics. This isn't a preschool sing-a-long class. Now, please read the board," he said furiously.

"Uh…I can't. It's really blurry. Can't you write a little bigger?"

His tone changed from infuriated to fretful in the matter of seconds. "Mr. Jones, do you have glasses?"

"Ew, no way. They're totally geeky," he said in disgust, making Arthur scowl.

"Plenty of people wear glasses. We can talk about this after the meeting. Now, for Mr. Jones, the board said Elections for President."

Alfred slinked into his seat and pouted. Glasses? He couldn't get glasses. Heroes don't need glasses.

"Anyone have any suggestions?"

"I nominate Artie!" Alfred exclaimed, scoffing off the idea of having to wear glasses. Annoyed, Arthur kicked one of the legs on his crooked desk. "Ow, what was that for!"

Lili perked up. "I agree."

"Any other suggestions?" Mr. Wang asked gazing into each student's eyes. He clapped his hands together and said "okay, seems that we found our new president!"

Arthur muttered with as little enthusiasm as possible "great."

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>Author's Notes: Damnit, I feel like Arthur right now...why must I wake up so early, even over break? Burrr. Ugh. By the way, I just wanted to say I am <em>not<em> on my school's model UN team, but I have tried many times to get an insider's opinion but everyone just tells me: "you debate stuff" which doesn't hekp me. At all. Yeah, you know who you are. So I'm just going to base all my knowledge of model UN by the internet and the speech/debate club at my school (which I am unhappily to be a part of and I can't say why or they'll hunt me down. Not kidding!) It's funny because at my school, the model UN team has like 50 students or even more. If anyone is part of their model UN team please don't hesitate to correct me. I have no idea. Okay, never mind my personal life, onto my thoughts about the story. Uhhh so I can't believe I'm making Michelle such a total bitch. I feel so bad. I never intended for her bitch-y-ness to escalate. But it did. Deal with it. And how did she know about the love ticket thing? Well...you'll just have to see. Or not. And awwww, Lili. She's so innocent and awwww she kinda reminds me of me. Except even I am too shy to talk to my crush. And to get _rejected?_ Awwww. Breaks my heart. But she's still loyal to him, which is cute. By the way **THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! HERE'S SOME IMAGINARY COOKIES! PLEASE KEEP REVIEWING!** Next chapter will be another filler-y type chapter. Yeah, or maybe not. Maybe I'll just skip to Friday in story world. I don't know. Okay this was long and boring and most likely going to be skipped over so: bye! See you for chapter 23!


	23. Chapter 23

Nihao! Can you believe it! I updated so fast! It literally took me all of this morning. Luckily, my whole family was out today so I got the house all to myself. Unluckily, I am really paranoid about bees so I can't sleep, so I woke up at like seven at wrote. Did you like the last chapter? I don't know. It's kinda awkward. Hmmm...whatever. Anyways I hope you like this filler chapter. I think it's really sweet, but it's nothing more than various scenes of UsUk fluffyness (if that's even a word). Please correct my translations if they are incorrect. I kinda used google...

Warnings: I guess...language.

Disclaimer: Why don't I own hetalia? LOL

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><p>"Remember tomorrow is the big competition so get a good night's sleep and dress appropriately. I'll see you all bright and early Schoolat 9AM sharp. Good luck," Mr. Wang concluded cheerfully. The eleven students got up simultaneously and packed away their notes and books for the day, overjoyed to leave the freezing classroom. It turned out that it was rescue window testing day, so all rescue windows had to be left open. Even if it was only October, it had been unusually chilly outside. Unfortunately, the room had no heat and would take the weekend to return to homeostasis.<p>

"Artie, are you in for some last minute studying?" Alfred asked hovering over Arthur's desk.

"On one condition," he said stuffing his union jack glasses case into his tan leather backpack. Alfred raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes watched Arthur rise from his crooked seat. "You have to show me your new glasses."

He shook his head and followed the other nine girls out the doorway. "No way, dude. They're totally geeky and huge."

Arthur crossed his arms across his chest. "Then I guess I'm not gonna help you study."

"Fine," Alfred huffed reaching into one of the pockets on his bomber jacket. He unfolded the gray wired glasses and placed them on his nose. "See! I look so stupid."

Arthur chuckled watching Alfred his glasses fall down his nose. "No you don't, love. You look adorable."

Alfred beamed. "Really?"

"Gentlemen don't lie," he explained kneeling beside his tarnished locker. He twisted the numbers on the lock before it opened before him. He grabbed his wallet, in which a picture of his family nestled where dollar bills should be, before slamming the door closed once more.

"Ready?" Alfred asked impatiently. He had already planned out the whole night for the two of them.

Arthur nodded as the American tugged on his arm and pulled him outside and directed him towards the student parking lot. Arthur bundled himself in his black pea coat on upon leaving the temperate school. They found his peacock blue convertible neatly tucked away in a parking space in the approximately abandoned parking lot. He opened the door for Arthur before sliding into his side of the car. "Just a question, what do you do at these competitions?"

Arthur tilted his head watching Alfred turn the key into the ignition. "Alfred, please don't worry. You'll do fine tomorrow," he said unsure how Alfred would manage tomorrow.

Alfred smiled radiantly and turned a sharp right out of the parking lot and onto the main road. "Y'all really think so? That means a lot. Nobody really has faith in me in that kinda stuff. Everyone says that I'm a ditzy idiot, whatever ditzy means."

_Well you are, _Arthur thought to himself. After ten minutes of mindless driving, Alfred pulled into a large shopping centre, complete with a white glistening fountain. "What is this place?"

"This is the North Hetaliashopping centre. It's really nice here," _And probably expensive, _Arthur added silently. "And I bet it has what we need!" Alfred pulled the car into a tight parking space before unbuckling his seat belt and dashing off to the center of the centre.

"Can't you slow down?" Arthur asked between long breaths. He clutched his knees, about to pass out from exhaustion.

"I'm just so excited!" he said opening one of the clear glass doors. The store was exceptionally modern painted with pure white walls and matching white tiles. Hung up on clothing racks were business clothes of mostly purple and blue hues.

"Bienvenue à _Petite __à Paris._ Je m'appelle Jeanne [1]," a woman in her forties said. She had undulating platinum blonde hair tied up into a loose bun. She wore radiant makeup that brought out her glowing blue eyes that matched her blue working suit.

"Hey Jeanne, do you think you can get a white shirt and black pants for me and my friend."

She winked. "bien sûr, quelque chose pour vous [2]." With that, she walked away gracefully.

Arthur tilted his head. "What the hell did she say?"

Alfred shrugged. "I dunno. But she's Francis' mom so she'll get us what we need. She owns the store, ya know."

"Figures," Arthur muttered feeling frankly awkward in the store. Most of the customers were beautiful women in their twenties browsing for work outfits or something to wear to an expensive after party.

"I don't think I've ever heard her speak English. Says French is the language of "amour" whatever _that_ means."

"Essayez ceci sur dans la salle vestiaire [3]," she said elegantly. She placed a bundle of silk white collared shirts and black slacks in Alfred's hands. "N'hèsitez pas à demander de l'aide [4]," she explained before walking off to help the next customers.

"What did she say?" Arthur asked in utter confusion.

Alfred shrugged. "I dunno. Something about trying these on then asking for help. I really dunno."

Arthur nodded taking the other half of the clothing and walking into one of the changing stalls. He pulled the black curtain closed before removing his green sweater vest. He picked up the white shirt Jeanne had laid out for him and placed on arm in after the other, and then buttoned the glass buttons. In utter shock, it fit him perfectly. Next were the slacks. He pulled the slacks one foot after the other before realizing they were a bit wide on him, and when he walked they slid down slightly. "You done?" he heard Alfred call walking out from the stall next to him.

"Uh huh," he said walking out to greet Alfred and another employee.

She looked at the two in awe. "Why, those fit perfectly. You both look so beau [5]," she gawked, probably over Alfred.

Alfred smiled luminously. "Thanks, Marie. Artie what do you think?" He turned around once showing Arthur his entire outfit. Marie was right; the entire outfit looked flawless on him. The sleek white shirt emphasized Alfred's built structure and the pants didn't fall at all as he moved.

"You look great, Alfred." Arthur exclaimed.

"What about you, you look great!"

"Well, uh, the pants are a bit big. By any chance do you have a smaller size?"

Marie came over to Arthur and began nipping at the tag on the pants. "Dèsolè, _monsuier _[6]. That is our smallest size." She muttered something, and then she paused biting the nail on her ring finger. "Give me a minute," she stated striding elegantly away from the stalls before returning with a leather belt. "Here let me help you." She began to slide the belt into place, and bunching up the slacks in certain areas making Arthur feel uncomfortable. He never liked being the center of attention, mostly because he never quite had it as a child. "All done," she exclaimed clapping her hands together. She pulled Arthur to a three sided mirror and smiled confidently. "I'll go ring these up for you."

"Thanks," Alfred exclaimed as the two walked back into their changing stalls.

Arthur looked at the price tags and gasped. Fifty dollar for a white shirt and seventy for the pants. "Alfred, I don't think I can afford these."

"Nonsense Artie, I was going to pay for it the whole time."

He shook his head and unbuttoned the shirt exposing his bruised chest. "I'm sorry but I cannot accept your offer."

"Artie," he whined from his changing room. "You're my boyfriend. Think of it as an early Christmas gift."

The Brit scowled. Even if it was against his philosophy, he'd just have to accept it. He needed these clothes for tomorrow anyways. "I'm going to pay you back," he muttered.

"Stop being stubborn, I told you it was a gift I don't want you to strain yourself."

Arthur pouted "whatever." Without a doubt in his mind, he was planning to pay Alfred back, no matter what.

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><p>When the two stepped into the pizzeria, it was quiet and surprisingly empty for a Friday night. They slipped into a green booth near one of the windows, next to the table Daisy was cleaning. "Hi there," she said with a wink and placed two clean cups of water in front of them. "And what can I get you two?"<p>

"Nice to see you again, Daisy," Arthur said with a smile.

"Hey Daisy, where's Katrina?" Alfred asked noticing she wasn't behind the counter either.

"Hmm…probably out with Toni. They're always together. I think that it's really cute. I wish Ludwig would take me on dates like yours."

Alfred's brow furrowed. "We're not dating."

She winked. "Of course not."

"Seriously, Daisy. We're just friends."

"Aw," she frowned. "Well…what can I get for you today?"

"Extra large pizza with everything on it!"

"'Kay!" she exclaimed writing something on a small notepad, and then turned around a skipped back to the back of the store.

"How come everyone thinks we're dating?" Alfred grumbled.

"Hmm…I'd never guess why," Arthur muttered sarcastically and placed his chin into his cupped hands.

"Sorry Artie. I didn't mean it that way…"

"I know, I know, Alfred," he assured.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" he asked quickly changing the subject.

"Hmm…maybe because it's your name?"

The American pouted. "Can't you give me a cute nickname? Didn't I tell you that I hated the name Alfred? It's so old and disgusting."

"What should I call you then?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. Call me 'The Hero' and I could go around saving your ass."

"I'd rather not," he muttered. "I'm actually quite fond of the name Alfred. It fits you."

Alfred stuck his tongue out. "I like it when you call me love. Especially since you have a nice British accent."

"That's not a nickname, love. It's a term of endearment."

"Same thing!"

"I'd hardly think _Michelle_ would like that name."

Alfred pouted. "I don't care what Michelle thinks."

"I thought you liked Michelle, as a friend of course."

He frowned. "Not really. I think she found out about the love ticket thing. And she was totally all up in my face, ya know. I don't even know how but she finds this stuff out. Unless you told her which would be so totally un-cool."

"It's rude to accuse people, love."

"I'm not accusing! I'm just saying," he defended knowing Arthur was right.

"Right," Arthur said rolling his sea green eyes. There was a long pause before Arthur cleared his throat and awkwardly added "thanks. You know, for the clothes."

Alfred tilted his head. "Stop mentioning it."

"Please, just let me pay for the pizza or something. I feel bad. I need to repay you somehow..."

Alfred leaned in and brushed his lips against Arthur's. "Your debt has been liberated."

Arthur blushed.

"Here's an extra large pizza, for the happy couple, " Daisy exclaimed with a brilliant smile across her face. She set the pizza on the table along with two paper plates and utensils wrapped in a white napkin.

"We're not dating," Alfred explained folding a slice of pizza and shoving half of it in his mouth.

She winked. "Of course not."

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>1. Translates to Welcome to Petit de Paris (name of the store). I call myself Jeanne.<p>

2. Translates to Of Course. Something for you.

3. Translates to Try this on in the locker/cloack room (as in a fitting room).

4. Translates to Don't hesitate to ask for help.

5. Translates to Handsome

6. Translates to Sorry mister

Author's Notes: Wow. Filler chapter over! Okay, I'll make this short-ish. Or not. I decided to skip "Thursday" seeing as it would just be another scene and the story would just drag one forever and ever. It's so fluffy I awed when I wrote it. By the way, I don't know any French. It's all google. Google is like my savior. What did you think about Francis' mom? I don't know. At first it was going to be Francis but then I thought it would be kinda weird. Don't worry, I put every little word in for a reason. Or maybe not. Hmm...we'll see about that. Isn't $120 expensive? My friend once bought a coach bag in cash on Black Friday. And it wasn't like a mini bag it was a tote bag for like 400 dollars. CASH! And when i asked her she was like, well...you're paying for quality. Ugh. And the way Alfred eats his pizza is the same way most New Yorkers do. Although, I eat like by biting it, without folding it. And then there's Arthur who cuts it up like a mother would for a four year old. Hmm...that explains a lot. Damnit, I hated the ending. It just ended. I wasn't even going to have the pizza scene but I _had_ too. It would've been too short and dividing it would've been bad and drive me insane. By the way, **THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS! PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW! **Anyways, the next chapter is going to be the model UN competition, which means there's only about seven chapters left give or take. I don't know if I'm overjoyed or quite sad...Aw.


	24. Chapter 24

It's official, I have no life. Haha, just kidding. This chapter's kinda long...I've been really consumed into getting this story done. I'm so motivated and pumped! It's what you've all been waiting for...the model UN competition. YEAH! Although, it's pretty much just one of my speech/debate competitions turned into a model UN competition. (Please correct me if I am wrong.) There's an introduction of a lot of new characters. **Challenge: if you can guess all the ****Competitors****, you get a virtual cookie. **Hahahaha! Enjoy chapter 24!

Warnings: Strong language.

Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah I don't own hetalia...

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><p>"Alfred!" Arthur gritted through his teeth. He looked at the digital alarm clock on the night stand next to Alfred's bed. He wondered how Alfred was unable to hear the obnoxious beeping noises it blasted over ten minutes ago. "Alfred! Get your lazy ass up, it's almost eight fifteen."<p>

"Mhm. Five more minutes," he groaned turning onto his side.

Arthur sighed. "No, Alfred. Get up now!" He yanked the cobalt covers off the bed making Alfred shiver.

"What was _that_ for?" he shouted finally sitting up. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and yawned.

"Remember? The competition? We need to be there in less than an hour!"

"Fuck!" Alfred yelled with wide eyes. He swung his feet off of his bed and headed towards his closet, managing to grab his glasses too.

"I told you we shouldn't have stayed up studying," he lectured.

"Whatever, Mr. Wang is cool about that." He pulled his oversized I Heart NY shirt peppered with various stains off and replaced it with the white collared shirt.

"Uh…I'll be in the bathroom getting ready," he stated out of embarrassment. Arthur was already dressed in his white collared shirt and belted black slacks. With the exception of his bed head, he looked rather formal and elegant. He splashed his face with lukewarm water before slicking back his hair.

"Hey Artie, you ready for today?" he asked joining Arthur near the sink. He cupped his hands under the running water and poured it on his hair. He combed his hair with his fingers, but managed to miss that dumb blonde strand of hair.

"You missed a piece, love," Arthur explained smoothening down his hair with his hands.

"Don't touch Nantucket!" he said hastily and smacked Arthur's fragile hands away.

"You named your hair?" he asked in confusion and rubbed his red hands.

The American smiled radiantly and teetered the glasses balancing on the bridge of his nose. "Cute huh? Ya know, like the little island off of Massachusetts. It kinda looks like it, right?"

Arthur paused. "Uh…sure," he said still unsure of what Nantucket is.

"And my glasses are all the way from Texas," he boasted. "I feel so patriotic!"

"Uh huh."

"Well, we'd better be going. We don't want the _president_ to be late." Alfred switched the light to the bathroom off and bolted down the steps and turned into the kitchen. Only moments ago he was exhausted and requesting more time to sleep. Now within seconds he'd become this ball of energy. "Hey mom!" he said with a smile and pecked her on her cheek.

"Eh? Don't you two look pretty," she said radiantly. She was slicing meat on a cutting board on one of the marble countertops before asking "Arthur, honey, do you like turkey on your sandwich?"

"Mrs. Jones, you're too kind."

She smiled. "Nonsense. It's the least I could do." She was still in a pair of purple pajama pants and a large gray Yale tee shirt. She spun around and handed each a brown paper bag with the respective names written in cursive. "Good luck!" she called as the two blondes bolted out of the door.

"Where am I driving to?"

"Uh, I think it was St. Mary something…" he stated. "I'm not sure if that's right. I'm really forgetful."

"Gobbledygook, Artie." He opened the passenger's door for Arthur before jumping into the driver's seat.

Arthur raised his eyebrow. "Is that even a word? You better not say those kinds of things today," he said not wanting the team to be discomfited and penalized by Alfred's poor grammar skills.

"Don't get your panties in a twist," Alfred laughed then stepped on the gas pedal. The road were quite empty, given it was eight thirty on a Saturday morning. "We're here!" Alfred yelled.

Arthur rubbed his eyes. "Was I just asleep?" he asked groggily then untangled his disheveled hair.

He nodded. "Yup. You talk a lot in your sleep, so I didn't really notice."

"Do I dare ask what I was saying?"

"Just random stuff. Something 'bout a girl named Alice and then a lot about me. I dunno."

He forced himself to laugh and stepped out of the car. "Hmm…I guess I really was asleep." He rubbed his temples and asked "what time is it?"

Alfred looked at his silver watch on his right wrist and opened the main entrance's double doors. "Like five minutes past nine."

"What?" he asked through his clenched teeth. The school hallway was bustling with students all dressed in classy outfits roaming the hallways quite confused. The two quickly maneuvered through the long hallway and into the cafeteria where the teams were assigned to meet.

"Artie, re-_lax_. So what if we're a little late?"

"Arthur! Alfred! Over here!" Isabella called from a small square table near the back of the cafeteria. Her hair was neatly straightened from her usual wavy hair and reached an inch past her shoulders. She was wearing a light amethyst button down blouse and a dark gray pencil skirt.

"It's about time you got here," Natalia scolded fiercely as the two blondes sat down in the two empty chairs. She was fidgeting with the white bow on the top of her head matching the frilly bows laced on the bottom of her dark blue dress. Even in an elegant outfit, she scared Arthur, even if she was only a sophomore.

"Now sestra [1], there's no need to lecture them. There was a lot of traffic this morning," Yekaterina defended. She was consciously buttoning up her black blazer, covering her extremely tight white blouse which didn't do much justice to hide her D sized breasts.

Natalia pouted and twirled a loose strand of dirty blonde hair around her middle finger. "Whatever. I just want this to be over already."

"Well Mr. Wang just left to get the room assignments so it'll probably be over quicker than last year," Mei noted softly. It was a bit hard to understand her courtesy of her thick Vietnamese accent. Her long hair was tied to the side in a green ribbon matching her emerald green dress which stretched to her ankles.

"Last year was just awful. I remember I got home at midnight one night," Ari said removing her black blazer then fanned herself revealing a short, black laced dress underneath. Loudly she exclaimed "hasn't this fucking school ever heard of A.C.?"

"I don't see how you're always so hot. If anything it is way too cold," Mabel complained pushing her thin rimmed glasses up her nose. Mabel didn't look much different than she did on a regular basis. She wore a light pink blouse along with a light gray pencil skirt and her light brown hair was braided to the side.

"Well _excuse me_ if I'm from a country that's practically fucking ice!" Ari pouted with a heavy exhale. Two years ago she had moved from a small village in Greenland where snow covered the ground for two thirds of the year. In comparison, anything over sixty degrees must be sweltering to her.

"You better not curse during the competition. Mr. Wang might murder you," Mabel disciplined in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Oh shut it," she said and took out a compact mirror. She began fixing her short black hair with a travel sized brush.

"Where is he?" Alfred finally asked out of frustration.

"Calm down. It always takes this long," Ashleigh said with a smile then doodled something on the table trying to hide the fact that she was blushing immensely, which Lili scolded her for.

"Maybe 'cause there's so many fucking people," Ari murmured.

"They should all die," Natalia muttered.

"Okay! I've got the codes for you, aru!" Mr. Wang said perkily. It never struck anyone that he was a morning person, but here he was running towards the back of the cafeteria with papers in his hands. "Now, Arthur, if you don't mind, could you read them out? I've got to get to the judging room."

"No, I don't mind," Arthur said receiving the papers. "Uh…okay. Mabel is 701. Natalia is 702. Yekaterina is 703. Alfred is 704. I'm 705. Ari is 706. Mei is 707. Tai-Chan is 708. Isabella is 709. Ashleigh is 710. And lastly, Lili is 711. Got it? Do you need me to repeat myself?"

The other ten shook their heads simultaneously.

"Great! I'll see you all back here after third round is over. Good luck to you all." With those words, the nine girls collected their belongings concurrently and went off to find the room postings taped four times to every wall in the cafeteria.

Alfred tilted his head. "Artie, what does 704 mean?"

"Nothing, love, it's just a number so the judges cannot have biased based on names."

"Oh," he answered. "I still don't get it. Can't they just call me the hero?"

Arthur's eyebrow twitched. "I'm afraid not."

"And why is everyone crowding around those papers?" He pointed to the mobs of students swarming around the few listings taped to the yellow walls.

"It's our room numbers. Come on, we mustn't be late to our first round."

Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand preventing him from leaving. "I don't wanna," he whined remaining planted in his seat. "I'm scared. What if I'm not with you?"

Arthur bent down and faced Alfred, making sure to grab his broad shoulders. "Love, please. You're ready for this. Please, don't be nervous. We've practiced for this for weeks now. I have faith in you," he bent down and kissed Alfred on the forehead.

"Promise?" he sniffled.

"I promise, love."

* * *

><p>"Oh, hello there Arthur. You finished early," Lili noticed pulling up a black lunch chair next to Arthur along with Mei and Tai-Chan. All of the other teammates had already been eating their lunch except for those three, and Alfred of course.<p>

He stuffed his book into his bag and folded his glasses neatly. "Hmm…oh yes. I did."

"How did you think you did?" Mei asked opening a plastic tuber ware and shoveling her white rice with a fork.

"Fine, I guess," Arthur said modestly and exchanged his glasses for the sandwich Mrs. Jones had made for him.

"I bet you were great," Lili said with a smile and unconsciously amused herself with her blonde hair.

"At least you weren't in a room with any of those five idiots from Nordic High," Tai-Chan complained grabbing a few of Mei's rice grains with her own plastic fork. She pointed to a large table in the middle of the cafeteria, but more precisely at five young men. Each had a different shade of loathsome blonde hair and a different accent to match. "They win every competition. It's so unfair."

"I just want to kill them all," Natalia said with an evil sparkle in her eye.

"Who?" Ari asked perking up from her, err, nap.

"That kid with the awesome hair," Mei explained.

"By any chance, were any of you in a round with Alfred?" Arthur asked shyly.

Ari laughed intolerably. "I fucking wish. It's like automatically not being last place."

Yekaterina scowled. "I don't even know why he joined in the first place, no offense Arthur, since you seem to be really close to him."

"I was just a bit curious," he muttered, obviously taking offense, and took a bite of the sandwich. Even if it was just cold cuts, lettuce, tomatoes and mayonnaise it was still delicious.

"Yo! 'Sup dudes!" Alfred yelled practically in Arthur's ear. He squeezed a black chair in between Lili and Arthur. The table became coincidentally quieter.

"Speak of the devil," Ari muttered and laid her head back on the table.

"What's _her_ problem?" Alfred asked taking out his brown bag of lunch.

"I dunno," Ashleigh lied and took a forkful of some type of vegetable and shoved it in her mouth, unladylike, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Whatever. But, Artie. You should've seen me. I was on fire! Well, not literal fire but ya know," he said with a mouthful of turkey sandwich.

"I didn't know you were so passionate about current events," Isabella noticed.

"I didn't either. But it was so awesome!"

"I bet it was," Arthur murmured as politely as possible.

"Ugh, I'm so bored. When's the stupid final round thing-y."

_Not like you'd make it anyways_, Arthur thought to himself.

"Just be on the look out for a small bald man in a suit carrying a piece of paper. It's usual a dead give away that final round is gonna be announced," Isabella said.

"But I don't wanna wait," he complained.

"None of us do," Yekaterina snapped.

"Alfred, these things take time," Arthur said putting one hand on his shoulder. "Please, eat," he said noticing Alfred's sandwich was untouched except for one bite.

He pouted. "I'm not hungry."

His bushy eyebrow twitched twice. "Don't make me force feed you…"

"Wait! Let me get out my camera!" Mei exclaimed taking out a digital SLR from her large knock off tote bag.

"Fine, fine, _Mom,_ I'll eat," he said flexibly and took a large bite of his sandwich. He washed it down with a swig of Coke-a-Cola which he claims isn't as savory and sugary as its rival Pepsi. "See?" he said once he had finished his entire sandwich.

"Shhh! The bald man is here!" Ashleigh gritted.

Alfred clutched Arthur's hand. "You'll do fine," Arthur muttered. _Stop lying to him. You're just getting his hopes up for nothing, _his thoughts reprimanded.

The bald man tapped the microphone on the podium conveniently set up in the middle of the sepia hued room. "Good afternoon, and welcome to the first model UN competition of the school year," he said in a monotone voice. "In no particular order, here are our twenty competitors who have proved excellence in the first three rounds." There was complete silence in the room, for all their stomachs began knotting up at once. "In room A07, numbers 401, Mathias; 212, Eduard; 705, Arthur;" Alfred squeezed Arthur's hand tighter as the other congratulated him softly not wanting to miss their name being called. "1003, Hercules; 217, Toris; 405, Berwald; 404, Tino; 819, Feliks; 711, Lili;" There were more congratulations whispered around their table. "In room A08, numbers 1106, Sebastian; 215, Raivis; 1005, Sadiq; 102, Im Yong; 420, Emil; 1201, Christian; 304, Carlos; 419, Lukas; 208, Andrei; and 704, Alfred." The entire team gaped at the thought. Alfred had made it to the final round? It had be some kind of joke…right?

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>1. Translates to sister in Russian<p>

Author's Notes: Okay, let me give you my commentary now. Originally, I wanted it to be in one giant chapter but it was going to be _way_ to big so sorry if the ending is a piece of shit. Okay, so in the beginning Arthur is at Alfred's house, but it's not because he is now living with him, Mrs. Jones is just too hospitable and allowed him to sleepover and make him a lunch. Awww, I wish that happened IRL. Don't cha just love the word gobbledygook. It really just means nonsense, but funnier. So I had to use it...Also, Alice is Arthur's mother's name. I hope that wasn't too confusing. How do you like Ari? She's my OC for Greenland. Kinda the same attitude as Iceland but she's kinda punk and awesome. She has a _cold_ aura. Haha get it? Did you like my pun? Nope. (Okay, I'll spare you my corny puns). She kinda reminds me of myself. Pathetic? I think so. Also, I skipped the actual debating because, honsestly, I didn't want to do all this research about every fucking country. Really. I'm really lazy. So the competition is like this. There are three rounds then after lunch, it is narrowed down for the final round. The final round number is based upon how mnay people are competing. Usually there's around 30-50 kids for each division at my competitions and around 7-10 people make it. So if there's like 100+ kids then 20 students should make it. That didn't make much sense did it? Oh, whatever. Anyways, literally the lunch tables are exactly like at my competitions. Everyone bashes about each other and talks about their rounds/rooms. The pepsi v. coke thing was somethign we also talked about one competition. Everyone said pepsi but I don't drink soda...so I wouldn't know. The final round postings were pretty fast. Usually it's over an hour, maybe even two, for us. And where did Mr. Wang go? I dunno. I just kinda forgot to add him. Oops. Whatever, he's in the judging room, waiting to judge. Okay it's settled, Mr. Wang is judging, so I don't feel _too_ bad that I avoided him in the last part. Oh the bald man. There's always one bald man that leads the competition called Brother (Insert Christian Name Here). Literally. Oh well...**REMEMBER TO REVIEW! AND TO TAKE THE CHALLENGE! **See you for final room and final room scorings next chapter...


	25. Chapter 25

A hoy hoy! I really wish I put it into one document but it would've been _waaaay_ too long. Sadness. So, anyways, welcome to the result show of the model UN competition. (Haha I sound like Ryan Seacrest). I bet you didn't see _this_ coming...or maybe you did.

Warnings: Some language.

Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia.

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><p>He squeezed Arthur's hand as taut as he could. "Dude, did they really just call my name? Or am I just hearing things?"<p>

Arthur chuckled softly "no, no I heard it too."

"In that case, thanks."

"For what?" he replied raising an eyebrow, tuning out the monotone minister preaching about etiquette during the final round.

"Ya know, for helping me with this. And for believing in me and such."

"You don't need to thank me," he said modestly waving off the idea.

"Uh, yeah, I do," he refuted.

Arthur rolled his green eyes and returned listening to the hairless headmaster. "Congratulations to the students who are advancing. Those competitors have ten minutes to find their assigned rooms before the round begins. Everyone is welcome to watch either final round. Lastly, the awards ceremony will be taking place in the large auditorium just outside this cafeteria. Good luck to you all," he said bluntly before all the competitors stood up and flocked to the final round, ensuring a good seat.

"Congratulations you two!" Everyone exclaimed hugging Lili, Arthur and Alfred; although Alfred's hugs were always definitely tighter than the others.

"Thanks," the three of them murmured.

"Well, you better get to that stupid classroom," Ari muttered lying her head on the table uncomfortably. She still seemed a bit disappointed that she didn't make it to the final round, but rather bitter that_ Alfred_ could make it over her.

"Are you not coming to watch?" Mabel asked.

She shook her black locks and curled her pink upper lip. She answered coldly "why should I?"

Mabel shrugged. "Suit yourself," she explained before catching up with the others.

"Wait, people are actually gonna, like, watch us!" Alfred asked shakily, finally collecting all of his personal belongings. He pushed out his chair anxiously, almost making it tip over.

"Of course, you git," Arthur chuckled.

He stopped in his tracks.

"Alfred?"

He mouthed "I can't."

"Of course you _can_," the Brit encouraged.

He shook his head. "No really, I can't. I feel like I'm gonna puke. It was bad enough I had to debate in front of judges, and now other competitors? What if I mess up? Everyone's gonna laugh an-"

"No one is going to laugh at you," Arthur promised and grabbed Alfred's sweaty hand, dragging him through crowds of elegantly dressed students. "Now stop being so nervous.

"But what if I lose? Everyone's gonna be really disappointed in me? And you're going to be disappointed in me."

"I would never be disappointed in you," he said pecking Arthur's hand.

He sighed "but I don't wanna lose."

Arthur pressed his lips together and pondered "hmm. Think of it as a football game. There's no difference."

"Can't you watch! Puh-_lease_."

"Alfred, you know I can't," he began softly.

"Fine," he pouted.

The rest of the walk to their classrooms was silent, probably because of nerves. "Well…good luck," he said awkwardly after reading A07 inscribed on the door.

"You too," Alfred managed to say without choking on his own words. He watched Arthur disappear into his classroom.

_You can do it,_ he assured himself stepping into the classroom. The classroom was set up with ten desks scattered in a circle. Outside of the circle were more desks messily arranged for the observers. He couldn't recognize anyone but Mr. Wang who was smiling supportively at him. Alfred's heart began racing faster than ever. _You're a hero! And you can't let Artie down, _he told himself sitting in one of the seats in the circle.

"Everyone please settle down," one of the judges explained making the whole room fall silent. She was short and plump yet rather intimidating. She wore a dark gray working suit contrasting her obviously dyed dirty blonde hair. Her eyebrows were extremely thinned and her upper lip was quite stiff, even if that is just a saying. "At this time, I would invite everyone to please silence their cell phones. For the sake of your fellow competitors, I ask that there is no eating is allowed during the debate."

"Alright-y," another judge said uninterestingly and certainly bored. She seemed to be a parent in her late forties or early fifties forced to come here as a judge for one of her children, based upon her worn out faded jeans and large NYU sweatshirt. "Let's start the debate. Our topic today is preventing the spread of terrorism."

* * *

><p>"Arthur? Arthur Kirkland? Is that you?" an obnoxious voice asked tapping Arthur on his shoulder.<p>

He spun around seeing the man Mei was pointing to before along with four others. The main student did have ridiculously luscious hair that defied gravity itself, thanks to half of bottle of gel. "Uh, do I know you?" he asked as politely as he could muster.

"Mathias," he said shaking Arthur's hand with his strong right arm. "Didn't know you went to Hetalia. Actually, I didn't know they had a good model UN team."

"Actually, last year I did not. Not to be rude, but how do you know who I am?"

He smirked. "You don't remember us do you?"

Arthur shook his head in response.

"Yeah, I thought so," he said with an obvious Danish accent.

"There was that international competition last year atOxford," one of the competitors said monotonously. He was wearing a boring navy and white button down shirt with black slacks. Actually, his only interesting feature was his hair, where a curl hung detached from the rest of his hair.

Arthur's eyes widened. _Fuck, fuck, fuck; don't mention _that, he thought to himself. "What about it?" he asked coldly.

"You were that kid that got first place," another one said cheerfully being clutched closer to the tallest of the group.

"'s a j'n'r," the tallest one muttered softly playing with the buttons on his dark blue jacket.

"You don't know how jealous I was. I was the second place kid. But I heard rumors that you slept with one of the judges to get first place. Like a junior could get first place," he laughed.

"Bugger off," he muttered.

"So it is true!" he exclaimed.

"It most certainly is _not_. I won that competition fairly, and everyone else was just jealous that I did! Now if you don't mind, I have _another_ competition to win. Nice meeting you," he said angrily before storming towards the auditorium doors. _The nerves of those kids to make up such ridiculous rumors,_ he thought to himself.

"Artie!" Alfred exclaimed, practically tackling him as he walked into the amphitheater. The whole team sat at the corner by the doors. "I was waiting for you!"

"I…can't…please…get off…" he managed to gasp.

"Oh, sorry," Alfred said releasing his arms and slinking back into his seat. "So…how did it go?"

"Fine," he murmured.

"Who were those kids you were talking to?"

"Oh, just, nobodies," he murmured trying to forget the ridiculous misconstruction they mustered out of jealously.

"You're never going to guess what my final round topic was," he said bouncing in the red padded chair.

"I give up," he said.

"You're no fun," he pouted making Arthur roll his green eyes. "It was preventing terrorism. Remember? The first day I joined we had a debate on that. I was, like, so happy!" He first pumped the air twice.

"That's great, Alfred."

"What about you?"

He looked down at his feet. "Gay rights."

Alfred slinked into his chair. "Oh," he muttered.

"Arthur, may I speak to you for a second, aru?" Mr. Wang asked.

Arthur nodded standing up from his chair and being motioned to join Mr. Wang out in the hallway, although it wasn't more private than the auditorium. "Did I do something wrong?"

Mr. Wang chuckled "quite the contrary. I went into Alfred's final round room." _Oh god. _"I don't know what you did to him, but that kid can really debate."

His emerald irises widened. "How do you know _I_ have something to do with this? It could've be-"

"A flower cannot blossom without sunshine not a garden without love."

Arthur stared blankly. "Huh?"

He winked before saying "keep up the good work."

"Thanks," he said unsurely before returning into the auditorium and slinking into his chair.

"What want, mate?" Ashleigh asked with her thick Australian accent. Her dark chocolate eyes refused to move from her sketchbook.

"Nothing really," he deadpanned placing two ear buds into his ears, wanting nothing more than to wait out the rest of the competition in silence. He pressed the shuffle button on his mp3 player not fully comprehending the song playing.

"Whatcha listening to?" Alfred asked taking off one of his ear buds and putting it in his. "What is this? It's so weird!"

"It's _Revolution 9_ by the Beatles, and I would appreciate it if I could have my other ear bud back!"

"It's so trippy," he exclaimed listening to the odd noises coming from his earphones. "What is this shit?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yes, continue appreciating nonsense lyrics with a catchy beat over meaningful classic rock."

The American stared in confusion. "This is considered classic? It's a bunch of weird noises." They continued listening for about thirty more minutes, watching the ceremony set up. Twenty trophies were lined up cautiously according to size from a box off stage. The podium was moved from behind the red curtain to in front of it and a microphone was adjusted on it. Throughout the whole thing, Alfred was extremely silent, probably out of nerves or he was asleep.

Two bald men walked up onto the stage with, yet another, piece of paper in their hands. Arthur tapped Alfred's shoulder making him jolt awake. The shorter of the men tapped the microphone twice. "Good afternoon. Welcome to the conclusion of the competition," he said expressionless, pausing for the applause. "Before we begin the awards, please give a round of applause for St. Mary's Prep School for allowing us to use their humble facilities." There was another pause for the roaring applause. "Now, will our twenty competitors please come up," he announced.

"Good luck," Mr. Wang whispered watching Lili, Alfred and Arthur stride up onto the stage. The twenty students lined up next to the taller of the two men. Alfred and Lili both clutched Arthur's sweaty hands.

"In 20th place, from Nordic High School: Berwald." The tall man who harassed Arthur moved from the line and shook the other man's hand. "In 19th place, from Hetalia High School:" the bald man said making Arthur's heart beat incredibly fast. _Fuck no. Not Alfred. Not yet at least. _"Lili." Arthur's heart jumped as Lili released her hand from Arthur's. From the corner of his eye, Arthur could tell she was tearing slightly. The award ceremony continued in this fashion until third place. The only three left were Arthur, Mathias and somehow Alfred. "In 3rd place, from Nordic High School: Mathias." Alfred squeezed Arthur's hand tighter, making his hand turn white from blood loss. "Tied for 1st place, from bothHetaliaHigh School are Arthur and Alfred." The two looked at each other in shock, ignoring the enormous applause they had received. Alfred pulled Arthur in for a hug before both prancing over for their large trophy and a handshake from the taller of the bald headmasters.

"What the fuck just happened?" Alfred asked walking off stage, ignoring the information the headmaster was saying.

Arthur's heart still fluttered. "I really don't know."

"I'm dreaming aren't I?" he smirked.

The two were overwhelmed by congratulations when they returned to their seats in the corner of the auditorium. "Congratulations, you two," Mr. Wang said patting the two on their backs.

"Congratulations," Lili strained herself to say. Her voice was cracked and rather unpleasant due to trying to hold back her tears.

"Why thank you," Alfred said unaware of her disappointment in herself. "You were really good too."

She forced a smile before returning to her seat.

"Congratulations to you all. Remember, we have a meeting on Monday to discuss results and upcoming events," Mr. Wang explained over the commotion from the other teams scurrying to their designated buses. "See you all Monday," he said as the team simultaneously collected their belongings and headed towards the exit at the back of the auditorium.

"Hello?" Alfred said to his phone once the two blondes were welcomed by the frosty end of October air. "Yeah, you're never gonna believe it." There was a pause before he shouted "Me and Artie tied for first."

"It's Arthur and I," Arthur corrected, although he knew he would be ignored.

He slinking his arm around Arthur's shoulder and kissed his cheek, making Arthur blush immensely. "I couldn't have done it without Artie."

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

><p>Author's Notes: I am so sorry for the ending. It is awful. And long. Buh. Hate the ending. Hate it hate it hate it. But I'm too lazy to change it. Buh. Curse my laziness and need to update. I want to finish this story but I also don't want to lose my social life. I have stupid speechdebate states at the end of April and All-State beginning of May then APs and shit. FUCK. I hate school. Sigh. Okay so the nervousness Alfred feels is totally like mine during competitions. I literally freak out. And those judges are based on judges I once had. They were awful. But they scored me well, so who's to complain. Anti-climatic I think so. Also, the think with the Beatles, if you've ever listened to Revolution 9 you know what I'm talking about. That song is soooo weird yet amazingly awesome! Especially with earphones. Were you expecting that result? I don't know how I feel about that? I feel so bad for Lili. She tried to hard to impress Arthur and ended up in 19th place. Awwwww. Sorry Lili. Anyways, thank you ihatethislovesong for taking the challenge! You were really, really close. Here are the real competitors: Isabella=Belguim, Mei=Vietnam, Tai-Chan=Taiwan, Lili=Liechtenstein, Mabel=Monaco (that was kinda hard), Ashleigh=Wy (also kinda hard), Ari=Greenland, Natalia=Belarus, Yekaterina=Ukraine, Obviously Alfred=America and Arthur=England (but I think you all know that by now...) **REMEMBER TO REVIEW! **I'm thinking about 30+ chapters. Not 40 but more than 30. I dunno. (UGH I'M GETTING ALFRED'S POOR GRAMMAR!) See you next chapter might be a little more exciting. Wink wink. Until then...


	26. Chapter 26

Shalom (look at me being all ethnical and stuff)! Hope you enjoyed the week and a half of updates because I most likely won't be updating for a while. All my work is going to pile up again and then there's all state and big tests and...ugh. I was going to update last night or this morning but there were some, err, complications. Number one, extended family is going through a tough time. Number two, my parents shut off my internet. Great, right? Anyways, sorry if this is a bad chapter. Literally I wrote in this morning because I wrote the next chapter but forgot about this one so...yeah. **THAT YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS **(even though I didn't get any for the past chapter *sadface*) Hope you like chapter 26!

Warnings: I don't even know if there's any language.

Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia.

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><p>"Why haven't you started the car?" Arthur gritted through his teeth. The two of them were sitting in Alfred's blue convertible blasting nonsense pop music with extremely loud bass. Although he wanted to, Arthur did not complain. Gentlemen do not complain. "It's getting kinda late," he noted watching the pink sky turn into a dark indigo and the stars commencing to emerge through the tinted windows.<p>

"'Cause I'm waiting," Alfred defended watching earth toned cars pull out of their parking spaces through his rearview mirror. He was acting rather quiet after the competition and especially after his phone conversation.

"Waiting for what, you git?"

He slung his arm around Arthur and kissed his cheek. "Have I been wrong yet? Just trust me."

Arthur gazed at Alfred's glasses, which were falling down his nose. "Fine," he murmured playing with the golden statue in his hand. If there was one thing Arthur hated was waiting, but he hated waiting without knowing why even more.

"I guess we're going to be here pretty long," he muttered with a sigh.

"Yup," he stated awkwardly. He hated awkward silences, especially with Alfred. He usually did most of the talking, actually _all_ of the talking. But Arthur noticed his mood was peculiarly depressed, and decided to ask "so…who were you on the phone with?"

"Oh, ya know, just Mattie. He's with Francis today. My parents thought it would be a good idea since they'd be out all day and I would be too and nobody would be watching over him. Personally, I thought it was quite dumb. He's sixteen, he needs _some_ freedom."

"You saw what happened when he was unsupervised!" Arthur protested thinking back to last Saturday.

He defended "that was a one time thing, Artie. He's _so_ not like that _all_ the time."

Arthur crossed his arms across his chest. Depression is not just a one time thing. No matter how heroic Alfred claimed to be, he couldn't just wave it away from his brother. "How can you be sure?"

"'Cause I just fucking know! Okay?" Alfred shouted furiously making Arthur wince. "Artie, I'm sorry, just, please…" Alfred wrapped his arm around his shoulder once more, but was immediately rejected.

"I'm sorry. I knew I shouldn't have brought it up. You obviously still need time to heal," he said with concerned emerald eyes. This really meant "you're in denial about your brother's depression and need time to accept it."

He smiled softly. "Nah, it's cool." He was quick to change the subject. "I think we can go now," he explained hopping over his sapphire door and hovering over Arthur's side of the car.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked playfully and chuckled slightly. He opened the door elegantly before his wrist was grabbed by Alfred's outstretched hands.

Alfred shrugged and lightheartedly said "close your eyes, and no peeking."

Arthur glared at him before veiling his eyes with his small hands. "You know I hate surprises."

"I know," he said deviously before tugging Arthur into the building. There were still a couple of people still inside, but they didn't even seem to observe the two running, more like stumbling, down the hallway. "Now there are just three flights of stairs."

Arthur nodded knowing exactly where Alfred was taking it. He counted all forty one steps before being welcomed by an even brisker breeze than this morning.

"Okay…open!" Alfred said watching Arthur's face glow with amazement. The scene unfolded magically, even if it was the second time he was experiencing it. The night was still young so fewer stars illuminated the sky like tiny fireflies. The two sat in the middle of the rooftop, staring up at the stars once more. "You're freezing," Alfred exclaimed after intertwining his fingers with Arthur's. "Here, take this," he said draping his leather bomber jacket around his delicate shoulders.

"No, really. It is fine," he said shaking his head but bared the jacket over his shoulders.

"Look, a shooting star!" Alfred exclaimed pointing up at the sky immaturely.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "That's a plane, you git." He looked over at Alfred to him squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "What in the Queen's name are you doing?"

"Making a wish," he explained with his eyes still closed.

Arthur held his tongue, not wanting to spoil Alfred's immaturity. Actually, it was one of the things he envied about him. When he reopened his eyes Arthur asked "so what did you wish for?"

"I wished we could just stay up here, ya know?"

Arthur tilted his head in confusion.

"Yeah. No school work, no drama…" he smiled, "wouldn't that be something?"

_And no family_, he added silently to himself. "If only," he sighed composedly.

The American jolted up and cried "I totally forgot, look in the pockets! There's a surprise!"

"Alfred, really, you're spoiling me with gifts," he stated unsure if he would find a diamond ring tucked away in the zippered pockets. He was definitely _not_ ready for that.

"Oh but this is really, really, special! Come on!" he begged mimicking the face of a sad puppy. "Think of it as an early Christmas gift!"

He narrowed his eyes and whined "Alfred."

Alfred sighed. "Just open the pockets!"

"Fine, fine," the Brit muttered hesitant to reach into the pocket. When he did he feel was a crumpled piece of paper and Alfred's phone in which he took out. In the dim lighting, it was difficult to tell what was printed on the folded piece of paper. The only thing he could see was a photograph of the night sky and a chartreuse arrow pointing to one of the stars with a bunch of words printed in bold times new roman. "What is this?" he asked stupidly.

"The Artie star," he said confidently.

He cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"I bought a star! See?" he said with a radiant smile. He held up his phone as a flashlight and pointed to the star the arrow was pointing to. "It said best to view on October 9th."

Arthur sighed. "And what's so special about October 9th?"

He pushed a stray strand of Arthur's hand behind his ear and bit his lip. "It was the first day I saw you."

Arthur couldn't help but blush and smile. He asked himself _did he _have _to be corny _all_ the time? _He cleared his throat before asking "so…where is this alleged Artie star?"

"Hmm…" Alfred said looking at the picture, then the sky. "That one!" he said with his finger outstretched to the sky. "The brightest one in the sky!"

Arthur giggled at the impossibility. "Of course, love."

"Oh, whatever. It doesn't really matter _where_ the star is so long as you know it'll always be there."

"That was the nicest gift I've ever gotten, and there is no way to repay you," Arthur said biting his lip to keep back his joyful tears.

"But it didn't cost anything," he deadpanned.

Arthur wiped a tear away with the sleeve of the tan, leather jacket making his face become puffy and irritated. "It's the thought that counts, and I never get you any presents so I feel like I'm a bad boyfriend. I just want to some how repay you for everything you've ever done."

Alfred's lips aligned in thought before saying "you don't need to! You brought all this color into my life and black and white, and there is no way to repay you for that!"

The corners of his lips turned upward unintentionally. "I know a way," he said slyly before brushing his pink lips against Alfred's.

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>Author's Notes: Murrr. Sorry about the low quality writing. I'm just out of it. It's so corny and fluffy. Whatever. At least I have next chapter all typed up and ready to be updated shortly. I'm thinking about writing a parallel story to this. Maybe Franada view point or even Frying Pangle. I dunno. Anyways, I thought that Alfred should totally be in denial about Matthew's depression. Like, hello? Wouldn't you be? Or maybe not...he's a complex character, as you'll see next chapter. Oh but I won't spoil it for you, don't you worry your pretty little faces. Also I always thought it would be so cute if someone named a star after me. How adorable! Hello, it's called <em>Star<em>crossed. I've gotta have that motif _somewhere. _Hahaha. Anyways, I started another story. It's a cardverse. Please read it. It's called A Clockword Spade. Don't worry, I won't abandon this story. I really won't. Unless you want me to in which is completely okay. **PLEASE REVIEW! THEY ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!** Until next time. XoXo BetweenDreamsAndReality.


	27. Chapter 27

Come hither into a magical world of enchantment, romance, and most of all: angsty boy love. Neehee. So, the story is beginning to unwind. Aww, how sad. However, this chapter was much of a filler. I had a chapter set up already, but I totally forgot about this idea, so I _had_ to write it. Don't worry, it shows how awesome the Jones family is. Okay so maybe it's just a total filler chapter, but it's really important. Well...maybe. Oh whatever. **PLEASE REVIEW!**

Warnings: Strong language.

Disclaimer: Still unable to gain the right to hetalia.

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><p>"Al?" Mr. Jones asked noticing his son walking through the front doorway. He was situated at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper article and sipping coffee, as usual. "Can you come in here?"<p>

"Sure," Alfred called slumping his american flag colored bag next to the door and skipping merrily into the kitchen. Usually, a talk like this was trouble, but seeing as he aced his Euro test and tied for first place at the model UN competition, it didn't seem too intimidating. "What cha want?" he asked sliding into the seat next to his father.

He folded the newspaper and sighed. "So how was school today?"

"Fine," he replied avoiding his father's glaring blue eyes. He began gazing through the clear glass back door, watching a sparrow nestle itself between the two piles of stacked deck chairs to shelter itself from the buckets of rain dripping from the dark curtain of clouds.

His father nodded and took another sip of his black coffee. "Okay, I'll cut to chase since you obviously don't want to talk. We need to talk about responsibility."

Alfred crossed his arms across his chest and pouted "I'm very responsible!" He watched the bird peck at the gravel repeatedly before flying to another location.

He sighed. "Alfred, you need to be a better role model for your brother."

"I'm a _great_ role model!" _Heck, if anyone's the bad role model it's him!_

"Alfred, I'm being serious."

Alfred pouted once more and stared at the storm approaching. The darker clouds were gathering closer, which was never a good thing. "Fine, just continue," he said trying to ignore the weather.

"I want to know why you were on the roof of my school."

Alfred's eyes widened, bewildered about his father's knowledge. "How did you…I thought you were…what?"

"I made all of these subtle hints, and then you go behind my back and betray me, again!"

"But you were totally at the school on that Saturday trying to catch the person!"

He sighed. "Obviously, I must be blunt with you from now on. You see, your mother and I were editing the tapes to prevent anyone from finding out it was _my own son_. Alfred, you put yourself at risk for a police record. Do you know how many colleges will accept someone with a police record?"

Alfred groaned. "Why do you always have to bring college into this?" _How do you even know I am going to get in? Who would even want me? _

His eyes held concern. "And on top of that you put your friend at risk too."

_Dad, please don't bring him into this, _he said through his sad eyes.

"And what if someone else found the tapes? Alfred F. Jones, I trusted you." _There he went using my full name again. _

"Look Dad, I'm sorry. I take full responsibility, just please, don't call Artie's pare-dad and tell him about this. It's kinda rough there. And yeah, I'll try harder to act responsible, for Matthew's sake."

His father nodded and paused before asking "so you really have feelings for Arthur, don't you?"

He looked into his father's deep eyes. "More than anyone."

His father nodded slowly.

_Damn, he is so mad at me. He is going to disown me. I was just beginning to _like_ school and now he is going to sell me as a prostitute. What if the person who buys me is ugly? And then I have to have sex with them? I don't want to get raped. I'm too young to get raped. Anyways, what's so wrong with being bisexual? Scratch that, I'm homosexual. Scratch that, I'm Arthur-sexual. _

"Are you mad at me?"

His father shook his head. "Now where would you get that notion?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. 'Cause you're a headmaster at a Christian school and all…"

"So? Not all Christians are against homosexuality. Besides, he seems like a great kid. And if he's making you happy than that's all I can ask for." He unfolded his newspaper and opened it to the third page. He gazed over the top of the newspaper and said slyly "and anyways, he _did_ help you get first place at that model UN competition."

Alfred gaped. "You found out about that?"

Mr. Jones smiled surreptitiously. "It _was_ held at my school…"

"Dad," Alfred whined pulling him in for a hug.

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><p>"So…how was your talk with Dad?" Matthew asked curiously and kicked his feet from the side of Alfred's bed. Alfred barely noticed Matthew enter his room, let alone prop himself onto his bed. The only give away was his faint, mousy voice.<p>

"Fine. Ya know," he replied before getting out his American flagged themed laptop. He typed his password with ease before his desktop unfolded in front of him. "How was your day with Francis?"

He blushed a fiery crimson. "Fine. Ya know," he mocked.

He slapped Matthew's shoulder. "Come on, I wanna know!"

The Canadian rubbed his sore shoulder. "Ouch! What the hell was that for, eh?"

"Come on, he _so_ has a thing for you," he exclaimed patting his brother's back. Matthew was always closer to Francis than he ever was, which made him a bit jealous when they were younger. Nevertheless, the both bought each other those dumb love tickets.

He rolled his mauve eyes. "Alfie..." he whined.

"So he does!" he exclaimed earning a smack on the arm by Matthew. Contradicting his fragile structure, he could really leave his mark.

"So what? He loves everything," he said a bit disappointed and ran a hand through his silky blonde hair.

He glared at his younger brother. "Don't think so down on yourself. Just give him some of those blue roses of yours."

"Yeah, like what you did with Arthur."

Alfred's lips aligned. "Come on, bro, you can't resist blue roses."

"True," the younger of the two replied. "But that lost a week's worth of shit."

"It was _so_ totally worth it," he replied looking down at his computer, which finally loaded to the desktop. The desktop was quite organized, seeing as he barely had any files to clutter it. He located his instant messenger icon revealing four new messages, all with the same desperate question: will you go to Gilbert's Halloween Party with me?

"What's wrong?" he asked noticing his brother was frowning at his computer.

"Just…" he sighed "I don't wanna go to Gil's tomorrow."

"Then don't," he advised flailing his arms. "It's that simple."

"Nothing's ever _that_ fucking simple," he tried to explained but failed.

"Then join my horror movie marathon!"

"I fucking can't!"

"Why not? You could bring _Artie_."

"Fine. Whatever," he said. "Have you been taking the medicine the doc told you to take?"

His brother slinked down. "I'd rather not talk about it," he muttered staring at the scars forming on his arms. It's officially been over a week since he's cut himself, yet he was suffering from major withdrawal. How he desired to bleed carelessly and have his memories fade into blood droplets. He scoffed off that notion as he watched Alfred dodder with his glasses on his nose and gave weird looks. "I thought you were quote-un-quote too cool for glasses," he said quickly to digress the conversation.

He sighed. "Blame Mr. Wang. And they don't look _too_ bad, do they?"

Matthew scanned him. "You're looking more and more like your old self again."

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?" In response, he immediately shook off his glasses and laid them on his nightstand next to a picture of the two brothers from the summer. If anything, he wanted to deviate from his former self. He was ashamed to ever have been that child.

"Oh, nothing," he chirped. The two of them sat in silence for the next minute, listening to the fluidity of the storm roaring against the window pane. The stillness was interrupted by a collision of thunder. "Alfie, are you okay?" he asked with gentle, concerned eyes. Alfred ignored the question as Matthew pulled him in for protection. "If you want, I can sleep in your room tonight."

He nodded a flinched at the sound of another crash of thunder. Matthew knew about his chronic fear of storms, heck, he was even there when it happened. The scene was all too familiar for him. It was back when he was five years old at the public pool. The two brothers were left alone in the shallow pool while the rest of their family went off into deeper water. Too quickly, a storm emerged and everyone was forced to leave the pools and huddle under the awnings because the storm had picked up too much speed for people to begin leaving. Alfred and Matthew were separated from their parents on the other side of the pool during the whole time, scared to death. Shortly, lightning struck a tall tree from the outlying woods and crashed upon the pool's deck filing flames into the young boys' eyes. Matthew had probably forgotten about the mishap, but Alfred could not forget. He could not forget how close he was to the flames, or how far away his parents seemed to be.

"Thank you," he whispered snuggling on Matthew's cool body before letting the world fade to black.

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><p>Author's Notes: Did you like? It's actually <em>not<em> cliffhanger. Actually, I'm projecting about eight chapters left (wahhh) where only one of the chapters has a cliffhanger. How upsetting? I used to write, like, one every chapter, and now...nothing. Buh. Awww...little father/son cuteness. I love how John is so sly and subtle where his son is not. I wonder why...oh never mind. Alfred's parents are awesome, but I think this is the last you see them. But Matthew is going to appear more. Yeah more Matthew! I love his character, especially making him evil. But that's not his character in _this_ story. Maybe another one. But the two are really close and protective of each other, maybe even a little too portective. And what's with Alfred's tragic backstory? I dunno. Needed some reason for his chronic fear of storms. Actually it's the only important thing in the chapter! Okay I can't write anymore cause my eye has been having this weird twitch all day and it's freaking me out. Also, I kinda wanna nap. Okay...**PLEASE REVIEW! THEY ARE EVER SO APPRECIATED! **Next chapter is a Halloween special, even though it is April. Oh, whatever. If you have any suggestions, please, please, PLEASE tell me! Literally, I can't think of anything...I'm just _that _uncreative. Oh well. See ya next chapter!


	28. Chapter 28

Happy Halloween in April! (Well...actually my old camp had Halloween in August so it's kinda the same thing...) Ready for a filler chapter? It's very fluffy though and very cute. You see more about Alfred's flaws (awwwwwww I just want to hug him) and a bit more into Alfred's past. Okay and since I got no suggestions for costumes, I kinda just used the ones from the Halloween Event 2011. So Alfred is Batman, Arthur is Sherlock Holmes (sorry if you wanted him to be Robin) and Matthew is a sailor. **Thanks for reviewing! **Hope you enjoy the fluff!

Warnings: Boy love fluff-y ness.

Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia.

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><p>"I got it!" Alfred shouted prominently through the house after hearing the doorbell echo in an obnoxious high pitched tone. He raced to the front, picking up the bowl of pastel colored candy along the way. It was a wide assortment of peanut butter filled candy, seeing as Matthew was allergic. Quickly, he opened the white door noticing it was only Arthur. He raised an eyebrow and set the glass bowl on a side table next to the door. "What are you, my grandma's furniture?"<p>

"I'm Sherlock Holmes you bloody git," he announced steeping into the house shutting the door behind him.

Alfred scanned his brown houndstooth printed costume, complete with pipe, before walking into the living room. Matthew was fiddling with the VCR player as the smell of freshly made popcorn drizzled with a caramel coating wafted in the air. He was dressed in a long white tee shirt, blue shorts and a sailor's hat to match; which was unable to collect all of his wavy hair, especially one long curl alienated from the rest. The edges of the sleeves were faintly tainted with dried blood that could not be washed out. "Right that detective guy! Didn't they just make a movie about him?"

"I can't believe you're so ignorant!" he exclaimed obviously seeing that Americans had no appreciation for classic literature. How he dreamed to be back in England legally guzzling alcohol, eating one of his infamous scones and reading the next book for his book club. And no, book clubs are _not_ just for middle aged women. "And what are you? Superman?"

"Hel-_lo _I'm _bat_man not superman," he pouted flashing off his black costume from the movie version of the beloved hero. His stupid 'Nantucket' still managed to defy gravity against his mask. "Can't you tell by the bat symbols? If anyone is ignorant, it's you!"

Arthur glared at him, ready to attack his words but was interrupted by Matthew clapping his hands together and said "okay, let's start the movie before World War III breaks out."

The Brit grumbled "git" before situating himself on the tan couch.

"I call sitting next to Artie!" Alfred yelled jumping onto the loveseat and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend's shoulders.

"Get off of me you fat ass!" he exclaimed straining to throw him off.

"You think I'm fat?" he said with sad, drooping eyes that looked down at his waist.

Arthur glared at him. "Of course not, dear."

"You so do," he moped.

Arthur sighed and ignored him. "Whatever, what picture are we watching tonight?"

"It's not a picture, it's a movie, dumbass," Alfred corrected with a smirk completely disregarding their previous conversation.

_Deep breaths_, Arthur assured himself, _six more months._ He muttered "fine. What _movie_ are we watching tonight?"

Matthew smiled deviously and pressed play on the remote. "'The Shining.' It's a Halloween classic. Well…right after 'Dracula' and 'The Wolf man' but we, I mean I, saw that last year. Never mind. Have you seen 'The Shining?'"

He shook his head. "I read the book, but that was a couple of years ago."

"Aw, that's upsetting," Alfred pouted.

Arthur raised a black, bushy eyebrow. "And why is that, love?"

"'Cause the book is, like, _always_ better than the movie. It's law."

"Shhh!" his twin hissed turning the volume louder.

The three blondes watched the movie unfold before them. A car was driving along a long, winding road with mountains hovering over at the background. Arthur turned to his side to grab a piece of popcorn from Alfred before he realized he was gripping onto the red and white bowl tightly and shaking out of fear. "Alfred!"

"Ahh!" Alfred cried practically falling off of the couch.

"What happened?" Matthew asked letting the ominous scene run through the background.

"Alfred was totally scared," he replied.

"Was not!" he complained as an obvious lie. He began to collect himself before adding "heroes don't get scared!"

Matthew rolled his eyes. "If you want we can watch something less frightening."

Arthur snickered.

"Nope, I'm good," he lied returning to the movie and burrowing his face into his costume and sulked. _Why did we have to watch a _horror _movie? Of all movies! Okay. Be brave. _"I'll protect you Artie, since I _am_ a hero," he said nuzzling himself onto his chest.

"I don't need bloody protection," he said, but was unable to move Alfred's head from his chest making Arthur sigh. Arthur never found scary movies ever terrifying. Frankly, he wished there would be a movie that he could find remotely scary.

Around fifteen minutes of the movie had passed before Alfred had another panic attack. "OMG Artie it's so scary! Let me shield your eyes for you!"

"I don't need my eyes shielded!" he replied and flicked Alfred's hand away. Unlike _some_ people, he actually wanted to watch the blood, which was obviously just fruit punch or some other red-dyed liquid, pour from the elevators.

"But it's so scary! Aren't you scared?"

"Of course not. It's a blood picture, nothing scary about it!"

"But there's blood in the hallways!" he whined. "It's probably some ghost! Make it stop! Make it stop!" He clung to Arthur like a moth to a flame.

"Do you mind changing the tape?" Matthew asked standing up from his seat. He walked over to his brother and began whispering "Arthur's just gonna change the tape, okay?" Alfred nodded fretfully. "Good."

"What do I change it to?" Arthur asked looking at the VCR player. _I couldn't remember the last time I used one of these! _

"There's a tape in the cabinet under the TV labeled Alfie's tape."

Arthur nodded and scanned through their surprisingly large collection of VHS tapes. Towards the bottom of the pile was a tape with a white label with the words scribbled in blue crayon.

_Alfee's Tap Doo Not Tuch!_

"Got it!" he announced shoving the tape in to be welcomed by a Disney movie. How ambiguous. If anything, he thought it would be a tape at his first big football match or some other home movie. "Hercules?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

He nodded still shaking a bit. "Dude, it's a classic."

He rolled his emerald eyes. Hardly a classic. A classic movie was 'The Wizard of Oz' or 'The Godfather,' not some cutesy Disney movie involving princes and princess and 'happily ever afters.' "Sorry about that. Alfie over here get's scared easily," Matthew teased.

Alfred moped "do not!"

"Do too!" Matthew rebutted.

"Okay…let's all watch the stupid movie," Arthur said squeezing next to Alfred on the couch.

"It's not stupid! You'll _love_ it! It's about being a hero, like me!"

_You hardly qualify as a hero. _"Maybe one day…" he said with as much courtesy as he could.

His eyes lit up like a skyline after sunset. "You think so?"

"Of course," he lied giving Alfred a kiss on the lips.

* * *

><p>After about an hour, Arthur's phone began to ring. "Shit," he muttered reaching for his phone in his pocket. Why did he make 'Absolutely Invincible British Gentleman' his ringtone again? "Hello?" he asked getting up from the couch and walking into the main room.<p>

"Aye. Whatcha doing?" Scottie asked on the other line.

"If you're just calling to be a dick, I would appreciate it if you hung up." His eyes wandered around the main room. Everything seemed more overwhelming yet fragile when it was dark.

"I can't be concerned for my younger brother?" he asked sarcastically.

"Cut the crap."

"Someone's naughty today," he taunted.

"If you don't tell my why you're calling I'm going to hang up." He began gazing at the photographs decorating the walls in silver frames. He stared at one picture in particular: the Jones family with Alfred around the age of twelve. He was standing in the front with his brother, protruding his tongue through a gap where his two front teeth should have been. He was much shorter than he was now, his hair was more disheveled and features were much softer to complement his chubby body. Now he knows why Alfred became all defensive when he called him a fat ass.

"Okay, okay, okay. Sheesh. So Eily said the meeting about the will is tomorrow."

He averted his eyes from the picture and gulped. The will? He had almost forgotten about that. "Is that all?"

"No. Dad thinks you're out at that albino kid's party. He said if you get drunk you're still going to school tomorrow."

"I'm _not_ at a party."

"Thought so," he replied making Arthur clench his fists. _Reminder: don't answer the phone when Scottie calls. _"'Kay wherever you are, be home by midnight." After those words were spoken, dial tone took its place.

"Git," he murmured under his breath returning to the living room where comedic gospel music was playing on the television. "Alfred, are you crying?" He asked once he returned beside him on the couch.

"No," he said quickly and wiped his tears with his sleeve making Arthur roll his eyes. How could he cry over something so trivial as an immortal giving up their powers for the one he loves? How cliché. "Heroes don't cry."

"You don't need to lie to me. I think it's sweet," he said as an obvious lie.

Matthew stuck out his tongue and pretended to gag.

"Still, heroes don't cry, even if their damsel in distress thinks it's sweet."

"I'm not a damsel!" he shouted crossing his arms over his chest. Just because he liked sewing and men and literature and drinking tea and men didn't make him a girl. Plenty of men knit and bake…right? And what about Alfred?

Matthew snickered "would you like more butter on your popcorn, _my lady_?"

Arthur shot a dark glare directed at Matthew. "I am most certainly _not_ a girl!"

"_Most_ certainly," Alfred giggled receiving a smack from Arthur right on his bicep. Honestly, it harmed him more than it injured Alfred. "Ha! You can't hurt a hero!"

"All heroes have their weakness," Arthur muttered before ticking his stomach. The stomach was always the most sensitive area, palpable from past experiences with fights against his brothers.

He began laughing uncontrollably. "Stop! How did you know I was ticklish?"

"Elementary, my dear Alfred."

_To Be Conitnued_

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><p>Author's Notes: I actually don't hate the ending! Can you believe it? And sorry for all the filler chapters, even though all 28 act like filler chapters, as they say: it's calm before a storm *hint hint* for future chapters. Hmmm...maybe five chapters? By the way, I was going to have an extra chapter and I'm unsure what to do with it. Should I upload it as a different story? Hmmm...? Also writing the story on word, it complete 100 pages! YES! 100 full pages double spaced! This is such an achievement. Happydances/ Anyways, what did you think? By the way I love Disney movies and hate horror movies. Hate. I've seen tibits of 'The Shining' (which I do not own) but I had to look up the script for the beginning, and if I'm wrong please don't hesitate to correct me. The part where Alfred is crying at is the end, end of the movie when Herculeas gives up his immortality for Meg (awwwww) sorry for the spoiler if you've never seen Herculeas, which I recommend that you totally do. My favorite characters are the muses. I have all the songs in that movie on my iPod. OKAYYYYY that was _way_ off topic. **PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW! THEY ARE SOOOO APPRECIATED AND ALWAYS WELCOME! PLEASE FIX MY HORRIBLE GRAMMAR MISTAKES! **Ooh yes, next weekend I am going to be away so late/early update next week (just so you're aware). Next chapter will be an important phone call. Ohononon. See you for chapter 29! [Can you believe it? TWENTY NINE?]


	29. Chapter 29

Tee hee, happy Monday. And you're probably thinking: "Gee Monday? What is this? Updates are Wednesday and Saturday right?" Well...with my music coming up too quickly and a state competition this weekend, I've decided to accelerate updates (seeing as we have five chapters remaining maybe). I know I said that we'd have five chapters as of last week but I've decided to split this chapter. It's kind of a pinnacle point in the story. I hope it's a major plot twist for all of you out there. If you were expecting this well.../defensive mode on/ sod off okay! This is an angsty love story so it _has _to be cliche okay? Alas, **THANK YOU FOR READING AND REVIEWING! **Did you know I had six hundred plus hits IN ONE DAY! What is this madness? Sigh, enjoy the climax (well...not the full climax).

Warnings: Some language but less than usual.

Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia.

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><p>"I'm home," Arthur grumbled taking off his black pea coat and hanging it up in a cramped closet near the front door. There wasn't much room for a pea coat, let alone a winter coat. Also, it smelled like moth balls and was layered with dust, just like everything in this dumb house.<p>

"Already?" Dylan asked from the kitchen with his feet propped up on the table, as usual. He was texting another one of his new girlfriends he met at some bar or nightclub. "That was fast."

The blonde sighed and went into the kitchen which lingered the heavy smell of smoke and a litter box. They had a cat a couple of years ago, and let's just say they still had a bag of litter lying around the house somewhere. "Model UN was canceled so I went on the bus. Do we have any food in this house?" he asked when he peaked into the cupboard. Nothing but ingredients and cat litter.

"We have soup," he suggested then combed his hand through his red hair and laughed a text he received shortly after.

Arthur rolled his emerald eyes. _Soup isn't dinner. _"Then where's the flour?"

"Oh god. Please no," he muttered thinking of the possible food his brother would force him to choke down or starve for the rest of the night. Frankly, starving was a much better option.

He ignored his brother's comment before searching through every cabinet in the kitchen. In a cabinet under the sink was a bag of white purified flour. "I thought you like Mom's scones."

"Yeah, when they're edible," he added thinking back to when Arthur made scones, or should he say slabs of concrete. He didn't even think it was possible to make cookies turn into hockey pucks. Guess that proves magic _does_ exist.

Arthur snorted and cracked three eggs into a small blue mixing bowl. "Mine are edible!"

Dylan rolled his sea green eyes. "Doubt it."

He began mixing the flour, water, eggs and baking soda with a wooden spoon. He drizzled some vanilla and added the secret ingredient, chocolate chips, before sending it into the oven laid out on a cookie sheet.

"Well done," he replied sarcastically watching his brother wipe beats of sweat rolling down his forehead. "Nothing combusted, yet."

"Oh quit your whining," he grumbled taking off his oven mitts and sat down beside his brother.

"Oh, I forgot. Some bitch was calling for you," he said with a wink.

He raised a bushy eyebrow. "What was her name?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. Art, I don't care. I was just stating a fact. She left a message with her number and shit."

Arthur walked over to the phone cradle and pressed the flashing message button. _"_You have two new messages," the annoying robot woman explained.

"Hello, this is the IRS calling about your pay-"

Arthur skipped to the next message and checked the oven. "Good afternoon, I am Wendy Simmons calling on behalf of Mrs. Alice Kirkland's will. When you get a chance, please do not hesitate to call me back. My number is 555-2012, thank you."

"Who's Wendy Simmons? Is she hot?" Dylan asked.

"Shit!" Arthur shouted looking into the oven. He grabbed his oven mitts before taking out a tray of completely unleavened dough covered in black soot.

"Ha! I knew you were bad at cooking, but I didn't think you were _that_ bad," he said between laughs.

Arthur curled his lip and scraped the remnants off with a fork. "I don't understand what went wrong," he muttered cupping his chin into his hands.

"You used baking soda instead of baking power, you git," he said ruffling his brother's blonde hair.

He soughed and dialed the sticky numbers on the cordless black phone. "I better call that woman back."

"Mrs. Simmons' office, Wendy speaking, how may I help you?" a cheerful voice answered.

He cleared his throat. "Hello Wendy, I'm Arthur Kirkland, calling about Alice Kirkland's will," he said choking on the last word.

"My, pleasant to meet you over the phone. Now, let us discuss the will. Please hold on one minute," Wendy explained in a high pitch voice, almost like a mouse. "Ah, here we are. Now, what is your relation to Mrs. Kirkland?"

"I'm her son, her fourth son to be exact," he said walking into the main room, hoping Dylan would have the decency not to eavesdrop.

"Yes well, first off is your inheritance. Your total comes out to 25,000 pounds."

He spurted "25,000?" He could go to a decent college with that kind of money.

"Yes, my dear. Now, if you don't mind, my I have your age and legal guardian?"

"Seventeen and my father, why?"

"Well, it states that if you are a minor, you are required to live with your eldest sister, Mrs. Eily O'Hara."

"And why is that?" he grumbled. He and Eily didn't have a good relationship growing up, given they were a good amount of years apart from each other. She would usually ignore her brother stating she was too mature and sophisticated to be with children of his age, and grabbed a beer instead. Then there was her husband who ignored him too. "Why can't my father?" Sure he beats him all the time and doesn't appreciate his excellent grades, but he had just gotten used to his life in Hetalia. More like, he had gotten used to his life with Alfred.

"I'm sorry, Arthur, but there is no use arguing about this. Your sister has already begun registration back in your old school and preparing for the move into your old house. Your father has no legal rights over you anymore. I know this is happening all too fast, but we cannot alter the law, correct? Lighten up, Mr. Kirkland, we will send over your tickets in the mail as soon as possible."

Arthur remained silent through the whole, quite bewildered.

"It was nice talking to you, Arthur," she said before hanging up.

"What happened?" Dylan inquired when he returned into the kitchen, slamming the phone back into its cradle.

He bit his lip holding back tears. "I'm moving back to England."

He laughed "great and six months early. Happy day, happy day! Now when's the day we can all celebrate?"

"Sod off," he muttered slinking into his seat.

"Just saying," he defended receiving a dark glare from Arthur. "Hey, lighten up, have a beer. It's time to celebrate!" he went over to the fridge and took out a bottle of bourbon. Maybe beer was exactly what Arthur needed.

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><p>Author's Notes: Comments? Questions? This has been my intention since before I even began writing the story. I am just so evil. MWAHAHAHA! Every force of nature doesn't want them together. Awww, and how is he going to break it to Alfred? Poor Alfred. Hey, at least he'll be away from his father and brothers. I guess that's a plus. Haha the IRS calling about taxes. I don't really know what the IRS does about people who don't pay taxes, but I thought it would be funny to hear what the Kirklands let the machine answer. And who knows how long ago the message was from! With the part with the soup isn't dinner is what my dad says like every night. I love soup but he's all like: "it's not dinner" and blah, blah, blah. By the way, my parents aren't anything like the Kirklands, but they aren't quite as nice as Mr. and Mrs. Jones [well...maybe my mom is...] Also, Wendy Simmons is a complete OC. Not based off anyone, but a normal lawyer-y person. Getting back to the story! What kind of story would this be without a plot turn? Anyways, who ever said he was going to follow through? Maybe Alfred's parents are going to adopt him? Who knows? Oh right, I do! And maybe I should stop giving all my thoughts away. Damn you fingers. Okay so next chapter is going to be a bit of a comedic part at the beginning. Think of it as the eye of a hurricane. Soft [but yonder window breaks] until the storm begins again. Yeah more storm! You'll just have to see in chapter 30...<p> 


	30. Chapter 30

Dear readers, I am so sorry about not updating on Wednesday like I promised, but Thurs morning is okay, right? These whole two weeks are really hectic for me. Sorry loves. Anyways, it pains me to say this, but I think there's only one or two chapters left because I combined this one. /SAD FACE 1000x/ Like what is this? I remember it like it was only yesterday, writing the first couple of chapters on my computer or iPod Touch (when I was babysitting of course). Oh what good memories I have with this story. I'm sad to see it go. Nevertheless, **THANK YOU FOR ALL THE GREAT REVIEWS! I WANT TO SERIOUSLY HUG YOU ALL!** I'm really aiming for 100 reviews total. It's okay if I don't, it wouldn't hurt my feelings (speech joke). Okay...I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Strong language.

Disclaimer: I only own the storyline and plot.

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><p>"Sorry," Arthur slurred stumbling into class, late.<p>

His history teacher, Mr. Smith, peered out through his large round glasses that were quote-un-quote hip in the eighties. He wore a blue button down shirt which exaggerated the fat hanging over his black slacks. He was rather short and not a day over fifty, or so he claimed. On his desk was a picture of his wife, who was rather attractive and young compared to him. She had long, straight brown hair with brown eyes and had shining white teeth. "Very well, please, take a seat," he said motioned for him to sit in his normal seat near the front of the class, no shock there.

He nodded and crashed into his seat. Maybe he shouldn't have had so many beers last night, but it was worth it. The numbness around him took away the pain, but now he was suffering from withdrawal, which was never a good thing.

"Now, let us discuss the causes leading up to the American Revolution," the teacher stated turning around to write something on the board in a red expo marker.

"What happened to you?" Lili whispered concerned and played with the ruffles on her purple sundress. Sure, it was a bit cold for a sundress but she did look charming. Her green eyes watched Arthur take out a piece of lined paper and scrawl down jumbled letters with his right hand, even though he is left handed.

Ari interrupted with "looks like the apple doesn't fall from the tree."

"I'm nothing like those half witted idiots," he said swaying slightly in his seat.

The two girls looked at each other. "Okay, you're drunk as fuck," Ari explained quietly.

"Am not," he interjected then hiccupped and scribbled more notes onto his page. _Why is the room spinning? _

"I didn't think someone as…delicate as you would ever drink," the dark haired girl noticed.

The Brit pouted "I am not delicate!"

"Mr. Kirkland. Is there something you would like to share with the class?" his teacher asked quite annoyed.

He squinted at the board. _Why kind of bullshit is he writing? _"Actually, I would. First off, the British did not disrespect their colonies as you Americans believe the country did. Secondly, the Boston Massacre began by the colonialists and the British were only using self defense. Lastly, the taxes were equal if not higher inEngland than in the thirteen colonies."

"Mr. Kirkland, you are clouded by your nationality. Yes it's true that-"

"Maybe _your_ judgment is clouded," he hissed uneasily receiving a shocked face from his teacher. "You're so inclined thatAmerica is the greatest country of all that you are overlooking the details-"

"Now that it is enough, young man!" he barked making all the other kids slink into their seats in fear. "I will see you after class, and if there's anymore interruptions don't think I won't have you sent to principal and give a phone call to your parents for insubordination. Got it?"

"Whatever," he muttered holding his tongue until the bell rang excruciatingly loud. "What do you want?" he murmured noticing a figure was hovering over the side of his desk.

Mr. Smith sighed. "Arthur, you are one of my better students. What happened today?"

"Sick?" Arthur spat crossing his arms across his chest.

He nodded and said skeptically "okay. Well, I'll see you tomorrow." With those words, he walked back to his large desk at the front of the room, awaiting his next set of high school victims to be tortured.

Arthur collected his things into his arms and scurried out of the classroom. "Wait!" a girl's voice cried from down the hallway and two young girls caught up to him in the hallway. "OMG I didn't know you were British, that is, like, so cool!" she exclaimed playing with her unnaturally straightened brown hair. She had a revealing, low cut tank top tucked into her skinny jeans that exaggerated her lack of nutrients.

"So, do you likeAmericaso far?" the other girl standing next to her asked. She was unusually tall for a freshman, towering over five feet and nine inches but she was more attractive than her counterpart. She had blonde hair, a bit burnt at the edges, and wore a less revealing outfit, just a solid colored tee shirt and faded jeans.

"Not really," he muttered stumbling to find his locker. _Which hallway was it again?_

"Oh, maybe we can change that for you," the first girl said seductively. She ran one of her, practically orange from spray tanning, fingers along his arm. "So are you a freshman or…"

"I'm a senior," he muttered bluntly.

"Ooh, older men," the taller girl purred.

"I'm Jessica, but you can call me anything you'd like."

"No thank you, Jessica," he announced icily then shoved her hand from his arm.

Jessica's friend giggled. "Do you think you can say my name in your cute British accent too? I'm Rebecca, by the way."

"Okay, _Rebecca_," he said making her squeal. He smiled proudly. _Maybe having fan girls gawking over me isn't so bad? _

"Hey Artie!" Alfred exclaimed squeezing himself in between Rebecca and Arthur. "So…what cha doing?"

He pouted. "Nothing, Alfred."

"OMG Al you know Arthur! That's so cool!" Jessica exclaimed slinging her arm around the American's muscular arm. _Well there goes my fifteen minutes of fame…_

Rebecca winked and the two began walking in the other direction. "We've gotta go to class. Maybe we'll see you at the lake tomorrow?"

"Sure!" he exclaimed cheerfully.

"Lake?" Arthur asked with his eyebrow raised.

Alfred nodded. "Yeah, it's for the end of the quarter thing. It's like congratulations for a job well done!"

"And for you, that means bringing the football team to the play offs and barely passing all of your classes," he said coldly kneeling beside his decomposed locker. He didn't even know why he was at his locker anyways, he had lunch now. _What's my combo again? 17, 7, 6? _

"For your information I'm getting at least a B in all of my classes," he protested.

Arthur played with the lock to his combo. "Sure, sure, just like your weight isn't steadily increasing."

"I'm not gaining weight!" he pouted looking down at his stomach. "Okay, Art, talk. What's wrong with you today? Why are you with those girls and totally offending me? Did you, like, use your magical powers and switch bodies with your brothers or something?"

"I'm completely fine!" he shouted making Alfred wince. "No, wait, look, I didn't mean that." He sighed. "It's just, I'm not in the best mood. I got some bad news yesterday."

His eyes held concern. "What happened?"

"I, uh…" he gazed into Alfred's sad eyes, "failed a test. Bummer right? And now my dad's gonna go insane on me."

He stared blankly. "Really? That's it? Damn it Artie, you might have to get held back like your bro if this continues."

Arthur forced a smile. "Sod off, you git." Somewhere in the back of his head a little voice was yelling _you're going to have to tell him sooner or later. _

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><p>"Bought time you showed up," Michelle exclaimed earning a peck on her cheek from Alfred. The lake was already quite crowded with the high school students mingling with each other in the water or at the picnic tables close by. Others walked beyond to the wooded area where they would play a razzing game of hide and make out.<p>

"Sorry, babe. Ya know how traffic is, right Artie?" he explained elbowing Arthur in the stomach.

"Yeah, yeah," he stated rubbing his sore chest. And by traffic he meant an hour long make out session with Arthur. _Did he _have_ to hit me where that bruise is? _

"Hey, I heard you're nominated for valedictorian this year," Francis explained raising a cup of diet soda in a blue plastic cup. "That's exciting, non?"

"Valedictorian?" the Brit asked quite queasy. How could he possibly have one of the highest grade point averages in the school? It didn't matter anyways, he would be gone before graduation anyways.

Ludwig nodded waving his hand in the air. "Ja, it was posted all around the school."

Gilbert took a swig of his grape soda dying his white teeth purple. "Really? That's so awesome, well not as awesome as me of course, but still!"

Arthur blushed. "Really, it's not that big of a deal…"

Matthew patted Arthur's back twice. "That's really something Arthur. Cong-"

"Funny how you were the one who got all the brains in the family," Michelle stated ignoring Matthew's comment completely. She began pulling at the bows on her pigtails innocently allowing her luscious brown hair shimmer. Out of nowhere Michelle suggested "it's getting kinda dark, let's swim!" The sky was only a mixture between dark indigos and the color of night, like an awkward state between the last remnants of the sunset and nighttime.

"I didn't bring anything to swim," Alfred stated scratching the back of his head nervously.

Michelle began stripping her fuchsia v-neck tee shirt revealing a teal and white plaid bikini. "Hel-_lo_ why do you think we waited for dark?"

"Skinny dipping!" Francis roared throwing off his sweaty gray button down shirt then his pants and undergarments before plunging head first into the freshwater lake.

"Come on Al," Michelle pressured pulling on his arm with her chocolate skinned arm.

He planted his feet firmly on the ground to prevent getting any closer to the freezing water. "No really, I'm fine. I'm kinda sick," he lied pretending to cough.

"Bullshit!" Gilbert shouted and pushed Alfred into icy lake, head first. At first, the others began thinking it was just a joke that the quarterback of the football team bobbing his blonde head up and down in the water, splashing and flailing his hands like a maniac. It was only after Arthur had to jump in, with his clothes on, and drag Alfred's heavy body out of the lake before they stopped laughing.

"Oh my, Al! Are you okay?" Michelle asked caressing his cheek and fiddling with his 'Nantucket.'

Gilbert said innocently "whoa, dude, sorry. I didn't know you didn't know how to swim."

Alfred shot his sapphire eyes open and stood up too quickly. Within seconds, he bolted away into the forest with tears streaming down his face.

"Was it something I said?" Gilbert asked receiving a smack on the back of his silver hair from Michelle.

"Alfred?" Arthur called listening to the sound of his heavy sniffling and crying. "I can hear you," he stated brushing beside a bush revealing Alfred crying into his bomber jacket. It seemed he had ruined the shirt by painting a fifty in white paint, which was now smudging onto his face.

"Go away!" he shouted.

He sat beside the American and rubbed circles in between his shoulder blades. "What's wrong, love?"

"I'm embarrassed, okay? I used to swim so well and stuff, and then after the lightning accident I kinda haven't swam again." He wiped another salty tear away from his irritated, puffy eyes. "Then when he pushed me into the lake, all of the memories started flooding back into my mind and I kinda…" the end of his sentence became nothing but muted words interrupted by the nonsense chatter of passing teenagers.

Arthur wrapped his arms around his muscular body. After five minutes he suggested "maybe we should go find the others, okay? They're probably worried."

He nodded biting his lip.

The two of them exited their hideout in the bushes and were confronted by Scottie, who was obviously spying on them. "What do _you_ want?" Arthur snuffed.

"Oh nothing," he said straining to stand up from his squatted position on the ground. His faded jeans had grass stains on near the knee that probably would never come out with bleach, making Arthur wonder just how long he had been spying on the two. "Just here to pick you up and shit. Dad wants you home to start packing."

"Packing?" Alfred asked looking into Arthur's sea of green eyes.

The red head laughed intolerably and combed his hair with his fingers. "Ha, he hasn't told you yet? Oh yeah, on Sunday he's moving back to England."

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>Author's Notes: What did you think? There's a lot so there's a lot to write about. Okay, at first I was going to seperate the two parts into two different chapters but they would've been so short I decided to just combine them. By the way, Rebecca, Jessica and Mr. Smith are all OCs. Loosely based on the bitches at my school but no teachers are like that at my school. They are very, very liberal (but always accuse the British and Americans for being the cause of the problems in the world) so they are always up for different viewpoints. Well...they're teachers after all. Just so you're aware, my school doesn't have these school events like a party at the end of the quaters. Instead, we have loads of tests. Yeah~ *sarcastic* what's a better way to end the quater than MORE work? Oh right, everything! Aww...poor Alfred. I feel bad for his fears and also how he found out that Arthur is moving back to England. Bye, bye Arthur. Or maybe our favourite American themed hero, oh right captain America okay so second favourite American themed hero, might come up with a plan or two. Or not. Just saying. I don't want to get your hopes up. How did you like the part with him coming to school drunk? I thought it was quite funny. Just imagine. By the way, he's left handed (at least in this world) so he's so wasted he thinks that he is straight and is a right handed writer. Also, he forgot his glasses, hence why he's squinting at the board. But they're for reading so why does that matter. UGH. Anyways, I had to put Ari in the story again, she's just so awesme. Does anyone else feel a little bit of MapleTea in here? Matthew so has something for Arthur. I think ther's a little bit. Maybe if you squint. And where's that Spamano I promised? Oh right. DEAD. Hahaha, maybe next chapter. The second to last chapter. AWWW. I've decided two more chapters. But there might be an extra story! YEAH PARALLEL STORIES! Maybe either frying pangle or franada. I just love Canada. He's so kawaii~ (lack of better word) OKAY done rambling. <strong>THANKS FOR MY LOVELY REVIEWERS! YOU ARE MY FUEL AND MOTIVATION! <strong>Next chapter is shortly approaching...


	31. Chapter 31

ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT! Excited yet? I think so. If you're not, well... *shrugs* can't please everybody. Sorry for practically dying for the past week...stupid states and music taking up my life! Although, you don't care...ugh, why do I even bother? _Okay, _so yeah, one chapter left. I kinda mushed a bunch of chapter ideas into this one chapter. UGH so much angst I can cut it with a knife. **THANKS FOR REVIEWING! **Enjoy chapter 31 (I can't believe it).

Warnings: Strong language, at points.

Disclaimer: All rights to Hima.

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><p>"S-Sunday?" Alfred asked with his knees growing shaky and needing to sit down. It was a lot to handle and frankly, it was making his head hurt a bit, similar to how he felt during math class. "Like <em>this<em> Sunday?"

Arthur nodded slowly, his throat closed up unable to speak.

The American placed his face into his hands. "What the hell? I can't fucking believe this!"

"It's not like it was Art's fucking fault," Scottie defended with green eyes as cold as the lake water. If there's anyone Arthur's brothers hated more than him, it was Alfred.

"So?" he asked angrily with clenched fists making the knuckles turn white.

He curled his lip. "so nothing, you git! The tickets came in the mail and there's nothing you can do, _love," _he replied poking Alfred's blue and red colored jersey between his breast bones.

"Watch me," Alfred snarled yanking on Arthur's hand and pulling him along the lush ground from a typical morning shower.

"Unhand me right now!" Arthur exclaimed after no more than ten seconds of walking, but Scottie was already gone from their periphery.

Alfred nodded and released his hand hesitantly. "Are you really going to leave me?" His eyes drooped into the shape and color of sorrow filled salty tears, comparable to those streaking down his chin.

"I have no choice," he tried to explain softly and looked down at the limp leaves piling up at his feet. "My mother's will states that I must live with my sister, who happens to have inherited the house."

"But my mom's a lawyer. She could totally fix t-"

Arthur placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder and looked up into his eyes blocked by wet squiggles he claimed to be hair. _Why do I have to be so short? Wait, I'm not short. That git is just too tall for me. _"I think it is better this way. You have seen what my brothers and father, if he even qualifies as one, do to me!"

"Then live with me!"

"It's not that simple, love."

He threw his hands up in the air, frustrated. "What's not simple about that? My parents would _totally_ want to adopt you! Who wouldn't?"

He exhaled deeply. This was going to be harder than he expected.

"Do you not want to live with me or something?" he asked noticing Arthur's sudden stillness.

"Maybe this is someway cruel fate is saying how we shouldn't be together…" he said letting his eyes wander into his hands.

"I don't want you to leave me or worse…forget me," he shouted letting his voice roam around the dying forest not caring who would accidentally hear it.

"Everything happens for a reason," he stated reminiscing on what Alfred had lectured him about at the restaurant.

"So…is this…ya know…?" he stuttered tripping on his own words.

"Goodbye, love," Arthur said kissing his wet lips before bolting off into the navy night.

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><p>"Did you finish packing yet?" Scottie asked lying upside down on his small bed, allowing his red hair to fall onto his face in frizzy, scraggily strands.<p>

"Not yet," Arthur grumbled attempting to stuff all of his books into one of his two large union jack themed suitcases.

"Well maybe if you didn't have so many books," he explained watching his brother endeavor to pack through washed out emerald eyes.

Arthur curled his lip. "Well maybe if you didn't breathe, I'd be much happier."

He shot Arthur a malevolent glare. "Is that a threat?"

"I suppose," he retaliated finally packing away his disheveled paperback copy of Frankenstein in his bag.

"Really? Because nobody is even going to miss you. If anything we're all going to throw a party."

Tears welled up in Arthur's eyes. Although it was no surprise to him, it still hurt.

"And you know where we're going to hold it?" he said sitting up on his bed. "Your _boyfriend's_ house."

He lunged towards Scottie's throat, wrapping his arms around his skinny neck making his face turn ashen white. "Let's get one thing straight: he's not my boyfriend."

"Not…anymore…at least…" he said through gasps.

Arthur tightened his grip on his brother's neck. "I'm capable of killing you right here unless you suck up your pride and take it back!"

Scottie gasped for air "fine…whatever." Arthur released his hands and Scottie's face returned to its normal pale coloring. "Boyfriend," he muttered, receiving just a glare from Arthur. "Oh come on, you used to be so much fun," he moped.

"Gentleman don't antagonize," he snuffed before packing the rest of his clothes into the second suitcase.

"Ya know, gentlemen have to be, ya know, gentle and a man. Two things _you_ seem to lack," he stated receiving another glare from Arthur.

"I'm a most certainly more manly than _you_," he retorted.

"Prove it! Beat me up or something."

"That is completely barbaric, you git," he said stuffing another argyle sweater into his bag, which didn't help his case.

"Come on, you wear ugly sweaters for fuck's sake and you've dated plenty of dudes. Just admit I'm manlier than you."

Smugly he stated "definitely beastlier." He zipped up the second of the two bags before dumping it on the ground. The room looked smaller, without a doubt. Less, or should he say no, books on the shelf and hardly any posters and picture frames plastered on the wall.

"Ha! So I'm right!" the redhead sang kicking his feet over his mattress in joy.

"I'm leaving," Arthur stated rubbing his temples.

He sat up on his bed. "Going to see your little _boyfriend_?"

"Need some air. I'll be back whenever," he said which wasn't a complete lie. He was going to the pizzeria, not because he would possibly see Alfred. No, the pizza was just so damn amazing he had to have it one last time before he left. _Just keep telling yourself that,_ his thoughts scolded. He opened the white front door not caring when he would return, just hoping it would help him escape to a magical place, like the lands he dreamed about as a child.

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><p>Arthur opened the door to the pizzeria forcing the door to make an obnoxious dinging noise before he nestled into a booth near the windows. "Dinner for two?" Daisy asked in her annoying high pitch voice. Her sister followed close behind set down two glasses filled to the brim with tap water and ice cubes.<p>

"Just one," he said irritably pushing the other cup aside.

Daisy frowned. "Aw, poor Arthur. I was actually expecting you two tonight."

"Huh?" Arthur asked raising an eyebrow at the Italian girl. _Please don't tell me Alfred made some stupid plan I never agreed on. _

She smiled and the two twins joined him on the other side of the table. "Yup. I got an order around fifteen minutes ago for Alfred. He ordered, like, two pizza pies. I thought that maybe…oh never mind," she said quickly shying away.

"Just coincidence," he muttered crossing his arms across his chest. _That git is _so _dead if I ever see him again. _

"Told you! You owe me twenty bucks!" Katrina shouted receiving a dark glare from Arthur.

Daisy defended with pleading brown eyes "please don't kill her. Really! She didn't know you weren't together anymore!"

He placed his face into his hands for support. "Sorry, I didn't mean to glare."

"Bad mood, huh?"

"Just a bit," he replied hastily then dragged his fingers through his wiry hair, managed to get tangled in a knotted strand.

"You can tell us," Daisy said sympathetically twirling her curl around her pointer finger.

He exhaled loudly. "I'd rather not."

"Then don't!" Katrina snuffed with skinny arms crossed against her chest. "It's not like we care anyways."

Her sister shouted "_sorella [1]!_ That was rude!"

"Well it's true. Now isn't it?"

"Thanks," Arthur grumbled looking through the spiffy window which spelled a bit like strong citrus fruit, making his nose wrinkle in disgust. Through the window, he noticed a red sport's car pull up and a blonde walk out of the passenger seat.

"Here's your chance to make everything right!" Daisy encouraged pulling her sister back behind the counter.

Arthur sighed. He'd have to face him eventually, right? "Hey, um, Alfred, I'm sorry about not telling you and everything," he started watching him walk into the restaurant.

He perched up from his glasses. "Oh, Arthur, what a lovely afternoon to you too," he stated with a smile. _Wait! Alfred always calls me Artie, and never speaks so proper. _

"Oh, sorry, I confused you for Alfred, didn't I?" he asked scratching the back of his head sheepishly. Know that he thought about it, Matthew was always wearing a red sweatshirt, not to mention his wavy blonde hair and a curl instead of a quote-un-quoteNantucketsticking out.

"No problem," Matthew said waving him off and heading towards the counter. "Happens all the time."

Arthur followed behind him curiously. "So…why are you here?"

"Just picking up two pies. Al refuses to come out of his room, and forced Francis and me to pick him up food. He's been playing this stupid song that's just a bunch of noises all day. Never mind, I didn't know you were going to be here…" he said trailing off into a whisper.

In bewilderment he asked "really?"

Matthew nodded. "Won't even talk to me so I'm left in the dark, as usual," he said as a subtle lie, though Arthur saw through it when he said "maybe you should come and get everything straightened out."

"I would, except I have to finish packing."

He frowned "bummer." Another hint that was aware of the situation, seeing as he wasn't inquiring questions on _why _he was packing. The Canadian turned towards the counter and received the two pies and paid a twenty in cash.

"Do you need any help?" Arthur asked watching the Canadian teeter over to balance his wallet, four bottles of diet coke and two pizza pies.

"I don't think I'm the one who needs the help right now," he explained raising his neat eyebrows. Within seconds, he hastily replied "well…I'd better be off. I'll tell him I saw you and stuff. Nice seeing you!" With those words, he bolted out of the door and the red car sped off.

Arthur sighed slumping into the booth once more.

"Why didn't you do anything?" Daisy shouted startling the Brit.

"There's nothing to say," he pouted refusing to look in her café colored eyes. Instead, he watched the crimson car fade into the horizon.

"Well, if there's any consolation, I envy your relationship with him."

Arthur raised a bushy, black eyebrow. "We're not even dating."

"So? You obviously still have feelings towards each other! I wish Ludwig and me would be _half_ as romantic as you two!"

He corrected "it's Ludwig and _I_."

"You're ignoring my point! You're relationship is like magic," she stated watching another customer walk in through the door. She was young, around age twenty, cradling a sleeping baby in her arms. "Well…I've gotta go," she sighed walking back behind the counters and asking for the woman's order.

Arthur slinked deeper into his booth and closed his eyes escaping into the inner mechanisms of his dreams, hough he knew paradise cannot last forever.

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>[1] Translates to sister in Italian<p>

Author's Notes: URG hate the ending. Just _hate_. URG! This whole end of the chapter is complete bullshit. Sorry for the awfulness. Is it too obvious? I hope not. Maybe confrontation? Or not. Just saying. There's going to be so many twists you won't be expecting it! YEAH! Murr. I'm too focused on all-state and other stuff and not to mention my other story (KUDOS FOR YOU THAT READ THEM, YOU ARE AWESOME!) However, this month is hectic, but I just love to write, [and my fans] that I couldn't resist. Sigh. I hate May. Just so you know. **THANK YOU REVIEWERS! YOU MAKE THIS STORY POSSIBLE! KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK! **Awww this is the last time I'm going to say: in the future chapter ect. Aww...I'm going to miss this story. But I don't know how much you're going to like the ending for the last chapter. It's sweet, or bitter. How about this: bittersweet. Yup, I've got the ending. I'm going to go write it now...bye!


	32. Chapter 32

Last chapter eveybody! Omg I am going to start crying. Well...maybe not crying. But I do feel this emptiness inside me. Or maybe that's my stomach growling. Whatever. I've been with this story for around five months now. Crazy right? I can't believe I actually finished it! Oi, okay I don't know how you're going to like it. /hides into a deep dark hole never to return again/ I'll just leave it with that for now...

Warnings: Strong language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

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><p>"See you never," Dylan said waving his final goodbye to Arthur from the comfort of his driver's seat then drove off with immense speed.<em> Good riddance, <em>Arthur thought to himself then scowled lifting his suitcases onto the curb, with difficultly. Maybe packing all those books was a bad decision…

He walked inside the Jet Blue terminal in the J.F.K. airport, recently renovated of course. It _was _America and even in a recession, the country could still spend their funds on nonsense, which didn't surprise Arthur. Americans were just quote-un-quote bloody gits anyways. "Just one," he told the monotone woman working behind the counter. He placed the larger of the two bags onto the scale, weighing a total of 20.4kg.

"We'll take it from here," she said out of pure boredom and picked at her cuticles. "Next!" she called to the line of people of all ages and ethnicities anxiously waiting to get their tickets checked.

Arthur sighed walking over to the security lines. How he hated airports. He couldn't bring water bottles past security, which forced him to either drink from water fountains or buy an overpriced water bottle. It was just cruelty, almost as bad as living with his brothers and father. Almost.

"So you were just going to leave?" a voice asked behind Arthur as he untied his sneakers on a bench. On top of not bringing in water there was taking off your shoes and all metal possessions.

_Shit, _he thought to himself knowing that voice ever so clearly. "I guess…" he murmured guiltily trying to walk over to the security line once more. If only Dylan didn't stop for Starbucks, he would've left scot free.

"Artie, please, turn around. For me?" the American asked grasping a hold of Arthur's hand.

Arthur sighed and faced the taller of the two blondes. Looking into his sapphire eyes he asked icily "yes?"

He blinked a couple of times to prevent flooding tears. "Did you even love me?"

The question startled the Brit. "Of course I did, Alfred," he said unpersuasively.

"Then why are you leaving me?" Alfred pleaded.

Arthur gazed at the overused pattern printed on the carpet. "You know why!"

"Why are you condoning it? I told you that I could fix everything! You could stay!"

"I don't know! I just need some time to my thoughts, escape a little." He sighed "I just thought that this would be good for us. We rushed things."

Alfred nodded slowly. "I see…but we were supposed to go the city and take a carriage ride around central park like Katrina and Toni. And watch me win the playoffs. And-"

"Lighten up, love," he interrupted making Alfred's eyes twinkle at the term of endearment. "I'll come back in May."

"May," Alfred whined. "That's too long without my Artie!"

"I'm only doing what is best for both of us. You need to worry about football and getting in a college, while I need to worry about getting another job to afford college."

"I guess you're right," Alfred sulked. "At least take your jacket back!" He began stripping himself of the jacket exposing a white tee shirt with the US flag printed on it. How typical.

"No, no, I couldn't. It is yours now," he said refusing the jacket making Alfred grin radiantly. The two looked down at their intertwined hands before Arthur cleared his throat. "I, um, better be going," he stated awkwardly.

"Oh, that's right," the American said giving his hand a tight squeeze before letting it go and watching him roll his suitcase towards the security line, with his overused black converse sneakers in one hand and suitcase in the other. "Love ya, forever and ever."

He called back from his spot on line, receiving some glares on the way, "I love you too"

* * *

><p>"Sir!" One of the attendants said shaking Arthur awake. "I will ask you to please exit the plane."<p>

Arthur rubbed his eyes. _How long have I been asleep, _he asked himself looking around the empty plane. The attendants were already sweeping the rows and scavenging for any forgotten items. "Sorry, miss," he stated with a yawn. He gathered his suitcase in the overhead compartment before heading out, embarrassed.

In the crowded terminal, he managed to notice his sister through a crowd of tourists. Although it wasn't that hard seeing he thick mane of red hair.

"Art! Look how much you've grown!" Eily said wrapping her arms around Arthur. Her thick red hair curling into Arthur's face and squeezing its way into his mouth. It tasted like Arthur's cooking yet smelled like honey dew which disgusted him.

When he pulled away from her tight embrace, he noticed she was standing beside her husband, who Arthur barely remembered ever meeting. What was his name again? Harry? Lawrence? He asked "so how old are you now? 12? 15?"

"Actually I'll be 18 in May," he scowled grabbing his suitcase form the rotating carousel.

"What have they been feeding you then?" his sister asked grabbing one of his arms and noticing how malnourished it looked.

"I was lucky to even _have _food some days," he murmured.

Eily smiled. "Same old father. A low life that can't get a job living with his loser sons. I guess Lewis and I will make a big supper for you tomorrow" This made Arthur smile. The two of them did share a lot of rough patches, but ever since she was married she was much more content. Or maybe it was the death of their mother. Or possibly their endless hatred towards their father, although he did favor Eily. Eily _was _his first born, but he adored Scottie and Dylan for being his first two sons. Whatever the reason, she was happy to see Arthur. A little _too_ happy if you asked him, though he shouldn't complain.

"Here, let me take this for you," Lewis insisted taking one of the rolling suitcases from Arthur.

"So…how was in the states? Make any friends? Everyone was probably gawking over your accent!"

"I was supposed to be nominated as valedictorian," he muttered unappreciative. That was all behind him now. He'd have to adjust back toEngland, the time, the school ect.

Lewis gaped opening the double doors out of the terminal and towards a long line for the coaches. He slapped his wife's arm playfully. "Eily! You never told me he was a child prodigy!"

"He's not," which was hard to understand given her thick Irish accent.

Arthur shot her a glare. "It's not that I'm overly intelligent, it's that everyone else there was quite dimwitted," he stated thinking of one boisterous American in mind.

She raised an eyebrow. "Make any friends?"

He shrugged joining his sister and her husband behind another couple. It was best Eily didn't know. Didn't want her to gawk over it. "Just a question, why are you being so nice to me?"

Eily shrugged. "Guess you've suffered as much as I have, if not more."

"You're probably tired from all this nonsense," Lewis explained as they boarded the coach trying to change the subject as quick as possible.

Arthur nodded, although it was more tedious than exhausting. "Sure," he muttered resting his head the window and having the world dissolve to black.

* * *

><p>"Get up, kid," Eily said nudging at Arthur's head.<p>

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" he replied groggily, grabbing his suitcase before exiting the coach. It was already dark by the time he got off the plane so it must've been past midnight by now. "And I'm not a kid!" he huffed.

"Sure," Eily said sarcastically then ruffled Arthur's hair before crossing the desolate street, having only the sound of the bus speeding away to accompany them.

"Oh my! Someone sent us flowers!" Eily exclaimed gawking at the roses placed on the front steps. She was almost exactly like their Mother: they both love to exaggerate the little things in life, which Arthur envied.

"Flowers?" Lewis asked curiously placing one of Arthur's suitcases against the steps winding up to the front door.

"Ask Art. It's addressed for him. It's from 1 Freedom Lane Hetalia,New York. Who the fuck sent you flowers?"

He shrugged. "I dunno," he lied feeling his heart soar ninety miles per hour. He asked himself _oh Alfred, why are you so cliché?_

"Whatever," Eily shrugged fishing in her pockets for the keys before turning the door. The house remained untouched. The same pictures of Arthur, Eily and Alice hung on the walls matching the white colored furniture in the main room. The lingering smell of wallflowers hung in the air, making Arthur relieved.

"I suggest going up to bed. It's pretty late," Lewis noted winking at his wife.

He nodded feverously, knowing exactly what his brother-in-law was implying. "Of course, see you tomorrow morning." He raced up the steps and locked himself in his old room. He sighed. His old room. Although it was deprived of items, the bed and bookshelf remained, as well as the memories.

His memories were strictly interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket. "H-hello?"

"Did cha get my roses?"

He screamed through the phone "it's past midnight here, you bloody git!"

"You still didn't answer."

"Of course, love," he said smiling at the roses slowly wilting beside his night stand alongside a picture of Peter. "Make sure you thank your brother."

"Yeah, yeah, sorry I totally forgot about the time difference. I'll make sure to note that," Alfred said making a mental note. "So…you're starting your old school tomorrow?"

"Sadly," Arthur murmured not wanting to sit at lunch alone or be named the depressed loner of the school.

"I'm just worried, ya know. Not everyone is as nice as I am. And you don't have a hero to protect you anymore…" his voice trailed off into silence.

"A-Alfred? You still there?" he panicked.

"Yup!" he replied gleefully. "But it's like dinner time."

"I-I understand," he lied quite troubled.

"I'll see you in May. Right? I'll throw you the biggest birthday bash you've ever seen. Just picture it!" And so, Arthur did. He imagined standing in Alfred's driveway with a large homemade sigh stating 'Welcome Home' as well as streamers hanging from every place Alfred could reach.

"You don't have to, really," Arthur began.

"Nonsense. It's the least I could do."

"Well, talk you to tomorrow," he said awkwardly, not wanting to say goodbye.

"Can't. Model UN competition. I think I'm gonna be pres now, I hope you aren't offended."

Arthur couldn't help but smile. "Not unless you kick some ass."

"Will do." There was a small paused before he added "Promise you'll come back?"

"Promise," he said before flipping the phone closed not wanting to spoil the moment by correct Alfred's awful grammar. He reached to put his phone away in his pocket until he noticed two crumbled pieces of paper. He unfolded the creases on one of the papers revealing a note inscribed with the words:

_Sorry for yesterday. Meet me at Grandpa Roma's Pizzeria at five today. My treat! ~Alfred Jones. _

He smiled and wiped away a tear before opening the window welcomed by England's icy November winds. He looked from his roof into the sky, and unfolded a larger piece of paper. Inside was a printed picture of the night sky and a chartreuse arrow pointing at the sky. _The Artie star, _he told himself. Alfred was right, it didn't matter _where_ the star was as long as he knew it was there, always protecting him which made a smile grace his lips. For the first time in his life, Arthur was truly happy.

_The End._

* * *

><p>Author's notes: Awwwww *wipes away a tear* how emotional. Especially since this is probably the first story I've ever finished in my whole life. It's a bit bittersweet for me too. Isn't Dylan just a lovely brother? Also, I go to the JFK airport a lot (not really Jet Blue but I thought that since the woman on the phone paid for it, it doesn't make sense not to use it) so I decided to chose a place I know all too well. I hate airports too. They're always stopping my sister. Always. I don't really like the cofrontation scene between Arthur and Alfred. It's a bit awkward. It's like two men are fighting in the middle of an airport. Not very realistic. Well...it <em>is<em> New York and that is where dreams are made of. Whatever. What did you think of Eily? She's a bit too nice to be Ireland but I guess she feels pity towards her brother, and she is like 28ish now. I thought it was a bit funny when her husband was like: so you're 12 now. That's exactly what people do to me. Literally. They can always get my sister's age but not mine. I guess when in doubt guess eight. Awww the flowers. Had to put that in again. Lastly, the scene in the bedroom. Urg. I'm not sure how I like it. He gets a phone call from Alfred. I hope that's an implication that he does in fact come back in May. Just saying...what really makes me smile is the things he found in his pockets. The cute little note he first got from Alfred [which I had to copy and paste] and then the star chart. Hello! It's called _Star_crossed. I think I said this before but there has to be an implication of a star in here. It's the motif. It's like Catcher in the Rye. (URG I've become an English teacher). Sorry for the long rant. Anyways, **THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR WONDERFUL REVIEWING! AJSKDFHJSAKLDFHF -INABILITY TO EXPLAIN EMOTIONS! I GOT 100 REVIEWS! THANK YOU FOR ALL OF YOU THAT HAVE STUCK WITH THE STORY FROM DAY 1 OR JUST BEGAN THE STORY TODAY! **Also, I will be holding a poll on which story I should continue/start on my profile page so check that out! Thanks again, and goodbye, farwell, I hope to see you again.

~Love Always, BetweenDreamsAndReality


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